Who Would Tell?
by kaitou-marron
Summary: Sequel to Worth: Hikaru and Akira start living together. What happens when an outside source finds out about their relationship and threatens to expose it to everyone? shounen ai: HikaAki, mentions of WayaxIsumi
1. New Beginnings

**Disclaimer: **I didn't own Hikago during my first Hikago ff, and nothing has changed. Darn.

**Author's notes:** I wanted to upload earlier, but this has been the weekend from hell (involving a stolen parking pass, towing, and lots of wasted time/money. Needless to say, I am **very** angry. With that being said, enjoy the chapter. Hopefully I can impart enjoyment, which seems to have escaped me this weekend, to others.

**Chapter 1: New Beginnings**

"I can't believe you're going to college," Hikaru pouted as he stood watching Akira make his bed for him. "I thought that finally you'd have some more free time." Both boys were now eighteen and had just recently begun renting an apartment together.

Akira had wanted to live somewhere that would allow him to commute more easily to school. And Hikaru had wanted to leave his house because of his desire for independence, not to mention that he would have taken any opportunity so long as it allowed him to see Akira more.

_Plus,_ Hikaru thought a wry grin spreading across his face. _This way I still don't have to do many chores._ Cheering that his boyfriend was a lot more domesticated than he was, he watched fondly as Akira folded his pajamas for him and then moved onto pulling the sheets neatly over the bedspread.

"Going to college just feels right," Akira said. "Father always says that furthering the development of one's mind is very important."

"_Father says,"_ Hikaru repeated to himself rolling his eyes. Akira did that every once in a while. At those times it was clear to tell just how much the dark haired boy revered his father. The one time that Hikaru had ventured to tease the other boy about it had only gotten him castigated as if he was committing heresy. Instead, he decided to ignore the father reference in order to answer with something that would not cause a fight to ensue.

"Bah," Hikaru replied shaking his head. "You just like pushing yourself hard. You don't feel right unless you're stressed out all of the time."

"That's not true!" Akira protested, fluffing Hikaru's pillows and placing them gently at the head of the bed. He then looked thoughtfully at Hikaru, pondering if any truth lay behind the accusation. "Well, maybe you're right," he added flippantly after a moment. "I **am** still with you, aren't I?"

"Me?" Hikaru squeaked outraged. "How do **I** stress you out?"

Akira looked back at his roommate with a smile on his face that said "oh, come on."

"Maybe if we weren't hiding our relationship, you'd have one less thing to worry about," he commented lightly.

"Hikaru, we've been over this before …" Akira said with a sigh.

_I know, I know,_ he thought. _The Touya dignity won't allow you to put your personal life in the limelight. If something like this got out, it would definitely make some waves._ They had been through that particular argument many times and had managed to reach some sort of agreement, so Hikaru let it slip away from him and made another comment. "You're going to be the only professional Go player that's a doctor as well."

From his place at the bed, Akira paused, contemplating Hikaru's slightly bitter sounding statement. "No," he replied after a moment. "I wouldn't aim for being a doctor. There's no way I'd have the same commitment to helping others as I have to the game."

"You know," Hikaru began teasingly, "with all this extra time I have, I'll catch up to you in dan in no time."

Akira stifled a laugh. "You would if you didn't spend all of your extra time playing video games with Waya."

"Hey!" Hikaru protested sharply, still watching as Akira finished his chore by smoothing the comforter over the bed. It was at this time that he decided to take his revenge. Quietly sneaking up from behind the other boy, he placed a hand firmly on the other boy's behind and felt satisfaction course through his body when Akira jumped at his touch.

"What are you doing?" Akira cried, whirling around. Suddenly, he felt Hikaru's hands on his shoulders, pushing him down onto the bed, pinning him down underneath him.

Hikaru grinned from his position. "You should be more careful with what you say to me," he warned.

"Hikaru! I just made the bed!" Akira cried in frustration.

"Who cares if the bed is messy?"

"But … But …" As Akira spluttered his response Hikaru lowered himself down so he was lying on top of the other boy, his mouth seeking the gentle curve of Akira's neck. His tongue darted out, wetting the flesh before he began sucking. Soon Akira's protests stopped as he felt arms close around his waist, pulling him close.

"See," Hikaru said teasingly once he had pulled away, "even you don't care about the bed being made." He looked down and saw the sour look on the other boy's face. _Oh, he's going to say something mean_. It was alright with him, since he knew that Akira wasn't being serious.

From his place underneath Hikaru, Akira contemplated different insults, and came across one. "Get off of me. You're heavy."

"H-heavy?" Hikaru cried with mock anger. "I'll squish you to death!" With that, he flattened himself on top of the other boy, lips finding Akira's. The kiss was hot and passionate, as Hikaru used his tongue to aggressively explore the other's mouth.

Akira responded to Hikaru's kiss, even made it more forceful than he normally would have, his hands clutching at the other boy's shoulders.

Hikaru separated from Akira, but still stayed close, lying on his side, body pressed against Akira's. With a smile, he took the initiative once more, his mouth closing in on the other boy's earlobe. He nibbled slightly and was satisfied when Akira answered him with a noise that came from low in his throat.

That "un" noise that Akira had a habit of making was very innocent-cute to Hikaru and did wonders in, well, turning him on, if he was being quite honest. A lazy hand trailed down Akira's chest, fingers working their way down and underneath the polo shirt that the boy was wearing. He watched as the other boy swallowed hard, pretending not to notice what he was doing.

_But you always back away when …_ With that, Hikaru allowed his fingers to dip lower to playfully tease the skin right along the edge of where Akira's slacks started.

He watched as, like clockwork, Akira's eyes widened, deep flush creeping its way onto pale cheeks. "I should get ready for school," he said, pushing himself up and away from Hikaru's grasp.

_Drat,_ Hikaru thought watching Akira pick up his bookbag and head out of the door.

**Author's notes**: The beginning of the sequel is up, and already a sexually frustrated Hikaru, lol. It's just the beginning, so I thought that they were entitled to be happy for a little bit. (It's safe to assume that this euphoric state won't last long.) Review; you know you want to.


	2. Blissful Ignorance

**Disclaimer: **Not mine. Don't sue.

**Author's notes:** Sorry, sorry! My update rate has slowed; I know. I've been totally swamped with schoolwork, grad school applications, and job interviews (including fun plant visits …). Warning: Akira's a little OOC … I think, although I've never seen him sublimely happy before. So who knows if my take on him is right or wrong. : shrugs : Enjoy!

**Chapter 2: Blissful Ignorance (and the Letter that Destroys It)**

A beatific smile crossed Akira's face. A smile loaded with such sweet purity was very rare, especially for an adult Akira. For the first time in too long, he was having a good day at school. His day was almost done, and the assignments he received weren't that bad. In fact, he actually enjoyed the fact that he got all of the test dates all at once; that way, he could better plan his time allotments for Go and for his studies.

His heart soared; today at school he had achieved complete anonymity, a task that he hadn't been able to accomplish for years now. Shuddering, he remembered the days he was bullied as a junior high student. Biting his lip thoughtfully, he realized that high school had been even worse. But today, today nobody asked him how his games were or how his father was, and it felt wonderful to be absolved from those sort of social duties.

_Nobody knows me here._ A peaceful school life had merely been a dream that he longed for in the past six years, but now, it was a reality. That smile wouldn't stop from spreading across his face. _Hikaru will be pleased that I'm going to return home in a good mood._

"Touya Akira!" a voice shouted from behind him.

Akira felt himself freeze. _Well, almost nobody knows me._ His face returned to the normal emotionless state as he turned around to see who had called him. "Oh, good day, Kishimoto-san," he addressed the former president of his Jr. High's Go club.

"I thought it was you," the other boy said, pushing up his glasses. "I remember them doing a feature on you in Weekly Go, and it said that you were going to start attending this college come fall."

"Yes. I thought that there was nothing wrong with furthering my education."

"You really like to stay busy don't you?"

Akira opened his mouth to protest, knowing that Hikaru accused him of the same thing. Instead he shrugged. "I don't like to leave my mind idle."

"I thought you'd be busy with all of your other obligations."

"Busy, but I can handle this on top of that."

"I wouldn't expect anything less from you," Kishimoto returned.

Akira paused in his response in order to judge the sincerity of the statement.

The uncertainty in Akira's eyes didn't escape Kishimoto's attention. "I meant that only as a compliment of the best intensions," he clarified.

Reassured, relief broke out on the boy's face. "Thank you," the courteous boy answered, bowing his head slightly.

"So are you living with your parents still?"

"No, I am currently sharing an apartment with Shindou."

"Ahh, Shindou-kun," was all the former Go Club president said, but his eyebrows raised slightly.

"If you'll excuse me," Akira cut in, polite as always. "I still have one more class to attend, so I must be on my way."

"Yes, of course. It was nice to see you, Touya-kun."

With another bow of his head, Akira was off. _One more class, some tutoring games, and then back home to Hikaru for the day. _

With a shake of his head, he headed to his last class. Math, he loved math; everything about mental math was his forte. With a smile on his face, he recalled all of the times he'd teasingly ask Hikaru what the score was at the end of the game, and the two of them scrambled to make the count before the stones were rearranged for easy counting. Not once had he lost to Hikaru at the mental exercise. Because of that, he was often accused of cheating, of starting his count early. Akira never cheated, and he was pretty sure Hikaru knew that. It wasn't his fault that his head could more easily arrange amorphous blobs into easily countable blocks.

He settled down in the classroom and took a syllabus with a smile. Nobody noticed him, and he couldn't have been happier.

-----------------------------

"Yosha!" Hikaru said, sticking a key into the mailbox. It was the only chore that he could be counted on for doing regularly. _And the least time consuming chore at that,_ he thought feeling rather happy at his lazy existence.

Mail and keys in hand, Hikaru padded his way back to their room, opting to take the stairs since their room was only on the second floor. As he entered, he headed towards the room to his left, where the studying desks and Go paraphernalia lay. It had been his idea to make one of the rooms a sleeping room and the other room a study, an idea that he was particularly proud of.

Akira had been against it at first, but then agreed with Hikaru that they had enough Go studying materials to fill a room by itself. That way the both of them could study, undisturbed by other personal belongings.

Honestly, the prospect of peaceful studying wasn't the reason for Hikaru's insistence on making one room a shared bedroom and the other room a shared study room. He had just wanted to share a bedroom, not like he could have admitted that to Akira. It was better that way anyways; Akira had learned to prefer a bed, his bed, to the tatami that he had been accustomed to growing up. However the mat did still sit in its own corner for appearance's sake.

Standing by Akira's desk, he flipped through the mail, skimming for the contents in each piece by looking at the addresses. "Tch," he muttered disappointed. _Bill, bill, junk ads … geez, maybe Akira should start getting the mail too. I'm just going to give it all to him anyways._ And just when he thought he was going to dump the whole pile on top of Akira's desktop when something caught his eye. It was a simple white envelope that had their address typed on it but no name and no return address.

Gripping the envelope, he could tell that whatever was inside was thicker than normal paper. It resisted his attempt to bend it. Cautiously, he turned the envelope over in his fingers, and then again. Curiosity sparked in his dark green eyes, and he finally satisfied it by using a pair of scissors to open the letter. When he pulled out the contents of the envelope he swore he felt his heart stop and then speed up as it slowly dropped into the bottom of his stomach.

"No," he whispered, gripping the edge of Akira's study desk in order to steady himself. "This can't be real." He shook his head refusing to believe what he was looking at.

_Who would do such a thing? _The world spun around him, as he tried to deny what he was seeing. Legs wobbled beneath him, finally giving out, and before he could realize it, Hikaru was seated on the floor flipping through the contents of the envelope, cycling them in hopes that they'd be different the next time around.

They were pictures of him and Akira, disturbingly intimate pictures. The first one was taken on a night, which his memory was blotchy on. He recognized the bar and recalled only parts of the night well. Ecstatic at his entrance to the Houninbou League, he had gone celebrating with a bunch of friends.

He had gotten pretty smashed, but he remembered Akira being there, remembered feeling that calm presence he loved so much sitting quietly next to him the entire time, gently supporting him even though Akira was clearly not comfortable there. He remembered at one point dragging the boy out and away from the rest of the group and pushing him roughly against the wall and kissing him.

After only mere moments of a kiss that tasted like alcohol and felt like burning desire, Akira had pushed him away, furious at his reckless actions. Hikaru couldn't have cared less at that time. But it turned out that he should have cared more. Someone had caught the moment with a camera in two brilliant shots. The first one was of Hikaru in action, shoving Akira against the wall, rendering the slighter boy defenseless. The second one however could not have been mistake for anything else than a consensual kiss. It had been the only time that Hikaru had not obliged by the careful act of pure friendship that he and Akira displayed in public.

"Fuck!" Hikaru swore. And he hated using that word.

There were more pictures. Someone had captured Hikaru and Akira in an embrace in front of their window when blinds weren't drawn shut. Another picture was taken from just outside the window. It was funny that Hikaru had never noticed that the blinds on the window next to his bed didn't quite overlap the edge of the window. Apparently this did not escape the mystery photographer. Although small and half covered by blinds the picture was clear: a shirtless Hikaru curled up against Akira, both deep in slumber.

Suddenly, Hikaru felt as if his whole body were plunged into an icy pool. Nothing was safe anymore. The creepiness of the distinct feeling of being stalked crawled down his spine in the form of a slow shiver until his whole body was shaking. The trepidation, however, quickly evolved into anger.

"If I ever find the bastard that did this, I will kill him," he swore. "I will pull out his intestines and dance on his grave."

Although his rage was mostly due to the fact that someone was clearly invading his and Akira's privacy, part of it was due to the frustration of feeling completely helpless. Out there existed a being that could turn his Akira's biggest fear into a reality, and he could do nothing about it.

**Author's notes: **I'm sorry if this chapter isn't as polished as it could be. Time constraints and such : waves hands frantically : . Ok, you know the deal. I like reviews. They are encouraging.


	3. To Tell Or Not To Tell

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. (But yet I still pour hours and hours into writing fanfics. What for? What for: sigh : )

**Author's Notes: **Again, maybe a slightly OOC Akira, but I suppose I'm using writer's liberty. I imagine a sublimely happy Akira to be very cute… Umm, read, enjoy, and review (if the mood so strikes you, and I hope it does).

**Chapter 3:** **To Tell or Not to Tell? (That is a Good Question)**

Feeling particularly happy, Akira thought he should be skipping home, something he would have done if his dignity would have allowed it. First, he stopped by the mailbox and was happy to see that Hikaru had remembered to get it. Although the normally irresponsible boy usually never missed the mail, he felt as if he should check just in case. With a shrug of his shoulders, he went upstairs, eager to see Hikaru after his long day.

"Hikaru? Are you there?" Akira asked, opening the door and peeking towards the right. No one was in the kitchen. "Hi-ka-ru!" He called rather cutely. He hadn't remembered when he'd been in a better mood.

Hikaru sat, frozen in the study room, not knowing how long he had been holding those pictures in his hand. As footsteps neared, he got up and jammed them into his back pocket. "Akira? Is it dinner time already?" _I should tell him. I have to. There has to be a way to deal with this. And,_ he admitted to himself, _he'd be much better at dealing with something like this._

No sooner after the thought had crossed his mind, Akira poked his head into the room, large smile on his face. When his own dark green eyes met clear sea-green ones the other boy's smile widened further.

"How was your day, Hikaru?" he asked, the blissfully happy grin reaching his eyes, making sparkling with life.

_Damn shitty, but I can't say that to you when you have that kind of face on._ "Umm, it was okay," he muttered getting up. "But you, you look happy."

"Un, I** am**," Akira said nodding his head, grin widening even more.

Hikaru didn't know which emotion, dread or love, spread through his heart more. The mixture of the two left him feeling slightly sick and definitely worn, but it didn't distract him from noticing the bounce in Akira's movements. "So, it was a good day at school, I take it?"

"Mmmhmm," Akira murmured. "Nobody in my classes knew who I was."

Hikaru couldn't help but snicker. "You're so simple sometimes."

Akira tilted his head and blinked his eyes in confusion. "I –"

"Nevermind," Hikaru said. He knew about Akira's troubles with his peers in Junior High, because he had happened to hear upperclassmen discuss it. Once his relationship with the other boy had started to develop, he got the idea that high school hadn't been better, in fact it seemed as if it had been even worse. The snide comments seemed to hurt the boy, no matter how much Akira brushed them off or seemed as if he didn't care; Hikaru could read him better than that.

Biting his lip thoughtfully, one of Hikaru's hand lingered on a certain back pocket that contained the inimical photos. _I can't tell him when he looks so happy. _

The smile, that particularly precious smile was worn very few times. In fact he could count the number of times that Akira had smiled so genuinely on one hand. The first time he had seen it was in a dream, so it almost didn't count, but Hikaru chose to count it anyways. It was before he and Akira had started dating, and he had had a dream with a very young Akira, so adorable, so sweet that he had just wanted to take the boy into his arms and give him a big hug. The next time he had seen that smile was when he told the other boy that he loved him for the first time.

_Those were good times,_ Hikaru thought, recalling the blush on Akira's cheeks, the way that his eyes had widened impossibly large and just stared for a moment. But then when the words processed in his head, Hikaru was rewarded with that smile, sweet and shy to begin with but blossoming on his face like a wildflower, lighting up those normally cold eyes.

_God, he's so cute when he's like this._ Because of the sheer rarity of Akira's current behavior, Hikaru decided that the pictures could wait. He could only hope that nothing would come of them. So, he surrendered his bad mood and put on his own smile, slinking over to the slim boy by the doorway. When Akira was happy he could be persuaded to do **anything**.

"Sooo … I was just going to eat some instant ramen today … but …"

"Hmm," Akira answered, mock seriousness in his eyes. "That sounds good for you."

"AAAkiiira," Hikaru whined, putting his arms around the other boy, pulling him in for an embrace.

"Don't you 'Akira' me," he answered smartly, turning around in Hikaru's arms, so that Hikaru's front was pressed against his back. "You only do this when you want something from me."

"Please?" he made the whisper husky as he breathed in the other boy's ear.

Akira shivered in Hikaru's embrace, the shiver turning into a full shudder when he felt the teasing nipping of teeth on the cartilage of his outer ear. "Mmmm," he uttered as a warm tongue flickered in and out of his ear. He leaned into Hikaru who was more than happy to press himself against him. "I can make curry," he told Hikaru.

"Make it spicy!" the other boy requested.

"You and your spicy food," Akira muttered. "You're the only person I know who insists that spicy ramen isn't spicy enough."

"Hey!" Hikaru interjected. "Don't get snippety just because you always **cry** when you eat it."

Akira's posture stiffened. "I don't **cry**," he defended sharply.

"You do!" Hikaru insisted. "Your eyes water up, and it's so cute when you sniffle."

"Just because my eyes water doesn't mean I cry!"

"Whatever," Hikaru said abandoning the argument before it could get worse.

"The spiciness in food that you can tolerate is inhuman."

"I like things hot and spicy," Hikaru murmured into his ears. Playful hands strayed from their clasped position in front of the boy's stomach. Fingers splayed out, touching as much of Akira as possible. Smoothly, one hand brushed the shirt up, while his other hand touched the warm, tight skin of the bared stomach and then ventured down …

Hikaru exhaled loudly when he felt one of Akira's hands clamp on top of his own adventurous one, keeping it in place before it could wander any lower.

"You never let me touch you," Hikaru complained.

"Aren't you touching me now?" the Akira asked innocently, turning his head back to look at Hikaru.

"I … well …" It was kind of hard to explain what he wanted when the other boy refused to acknowledge it. In some ways, Akira was still very innocent. And in this case, an innocent Akira meant a frustrated Hikaru. So he stepped closer to the boy, pushing his hips and the growing desire between his legs against the other boy's backside until he got a response.

Akira blinked several of times, mouth dropping open, so that his lips formed a perfectly round shape. Understanding dawned in his eyes as the light flushing across his cheeks turned bright red. He finally understood Hikaru's message. After a moment he just shut his mouth and put a sweet smile on his face. His free arm snaked around behind Hikaru's head, pulling it down towards his own. He gave the other boy a light kiss on the lips before stepping away. "I'll start dinner."

Hikaru could only groan as he watched Akira's leaving figure, unable to stop himself from admiring the other boy's slim figure and tight, slightly rounded butt. Hikaru silently lamented as he revised an earlier conviction. _When Akira's in a good mood he can be convinced to do **almost** anything._

**Author's notes:** Gya! I'm getting to that point that I think that not enough action is happening, although I'm sure you guys can all see what I'm trying to set up though. : rubs hands together : Again, apologies for mistakes made. It's not that I don't proofread but that I don't have as much time to go through each chapter as thoroughly as I had been during the summer.


	4. Distractions and Rewards

**Disclaimer: **I claim none of the genius that is HikaGo.

**Author's notes:** My muse is exhausted; I think she tried to kill me in my sleep. I'm working on 5 ff's right now, and I don't think I'm doing my best work on any of them. : sad face : I want to thank you all for reading/reviewing, and I hope I will continue to have your support as I post.

**Chapter 4: Distractions and Rewards**

Two weeks had gone by without incident, and Hikaru decided to leave the matter of the pictures alone, choosing to deal with it if something arose from them. Worrying Akira was not conducive to his peaceful life. Knowing the other boy, the fact that the pictures were out there would drive him crazy and distract him from all of the other things he had going on in his life. A constantly paranoid Akira was not something he wanted to witness.

_But I'm the one that's distracted now,_ Hikaru thought miserably, looking at the game he was playing with Akira. It wasn't as if he always won, but he usually wasn't in the position to lose this badly.

"I resign," he said with a sigh. They were barely out of opening game, and he had already messed everything up. _Weak moves, weaker shapes, and insufficient space for eyes,_ he thought surveying the board sourly. It wasn't as if he had misread the board; he just made careless mistakes, lots of them.

"Your playing was horrible today!" Akira scolded him. "What were you thinking?"

_I wasn't,_ Hikaru responded, if only to himself. His lips formed a pout, as he stared across the board.

"Don't look at me like that. You thought I'd fall for this simple trick by following your play here, when you've obviously got problems with the shape of this group. Its life was so susceptible to this cut right here." He tapped the intersection where he had placed his stone.

Hikaru couldn't even come up with a defense, but he still had to try. "Well, while you were distracted over there, I tried to invade here." He pointed to the board.

"They wouldn't have lived," Akira retorted. He looked more closely at the board. "That was really risky of you, considering the influence of this stone I've got right here."

Head lowered, Hikaru responded, "Yeah. Yeah."

"You've been a little bit distracted for a while, now, Hikaru. What's wrong?"

_If you only knew,_ he thought miserably. "Nothing," he answered shortly.

From across the table, Akira put one of his hands over Hikaru's, looking at him expectantly.

_I'd rather not have you worry,_ Hikaru thought, looking into concerned eyes.

"Is it because you know you're about to rise in dan again?" Akira asked hesitantly.

_That's true,_ Hikaru thought, surprised that it had slipped his mind. The committee was meeting soon evaluate his games for the last couple of years. "Yeah, I've been a little worried about the progress of my game, and it's just made it messier." He watched as relief spread through the sea green eyes that peered into his. _He seems satisfied with that._

"Hmm, let's make this interesting," Akira said, the corners of his mouth tugging up into a sly smile. "If you win your game tomorrow I'll have a surprise for you."

"Surprise?" That perked him right up. "What kind of surprise? Ne, Aaa-kiira?"

"Just be glad I'm giving you one," Akira responded, mischief gleaming in his eyes. "Especially when you haven't even caught up to me."

"Not everyone can be you," Hikaru commented, knowing that he said the last statement to pick a fight. "Touya **Kisei**." He emphasized the last word raising an eyebrow. Nobody in the Go world was really surprised that Akira had picked up his first title at the tender age of eighteen. Everybody, especially Hikaru, knew what an imposing presence he was on the board and that he was always able to play with a calm, rational mind no matter what the circumstances. It was a trait about him that Hikaru thought was absolutely amazing, making him respect and love Akira even more.

"Hmph. I never get tired of hearing you say that," Akira commented. "Touya Kisei with respect, rather than you whining 'Akkkiraaaaaaa'."

Hikaru glowered at the other boy momentarily. "I don't whine." But he wasn't really angry. Instead, he leaned over the goban and kissed the other boy, first on the forehead, then on the tip of his nose, and then finally his lips rested on Akira's.

It was a gentle kiss, just the way he knew that the other boy liked it, starting out slowly. Then he deepened it, putting his tongue to use. By the time he pulled away, he was aware of the complacent look on Akira's face. That smile, and those rosy cheeks were the only reward he needed.

"Let's get ready for bed," he suggested. "We've both got games tomorrow."

-----------------------------

Hikaru didn't know the last time he had felt so good in a game. Earlier worries about pictures and such were far from his mind as he concentrated on the win he knew he had to get. Soon, he got the indications which showed that he was going to win without a problem, and that was exactly what he did. His opponent was nowhere near as experienced as he was in games. Hikaru had heart, love, and determination while playing; it was something Sai taught him, to always go after what he wanted. Those were lessons that he held dear in his heart.

Now, what he wanted was to see what reward Akira had in store for him. So, he was not terribly shocked to find himself enjoying dinner at his favorite restaurant with the dark haired boy.

"So this is the surprise you meant?" Hikaru asked towards the end of the meal. "Can I order dessert too?" Knowing that Akira was frugal by nature, he had meant to goad his partner.

With level eyes that betrayed nothing, Akira said, "Dessert is at home." Afterwards, he looked down at his food again.

Mouth dropping open, Hikaru pondered all of the possible double meanings that the statement held. _Say WHAT?_

-----------------------------

"So you made this?" Hikaru asked in awe, staring at the little cake in the middle of the table. He had to admit that Akira had really outdone himself this time. He had known that they boy was quite handy around the house, since he was forced to be at a young age, but this was ridiculous. It had white frosting and was decorated with intricate fruit designs.

"Hikaru!" Akira exclaimed warning tingeing his tone. He couldn't help but keeping the hurt from appearing in his emerald green eyes.

_Silly question,_ he thought, shaking his head ruefully. "Of course you did. My bad." He watched as Akira's skillful, steady hands cut the cake into little pieces, the fruit on the top lying neatly on each piece with no indications that they had been further sliced. It was quite amazing.

So together, they enjoyed Akira's creation. The conversation went from the games they had played that day and strayed from topic of Go. Well fed and lighthearted from the chatter, pictures were the last thing on Hikaru's mind.

So, Akira obliged Hikaru in small talk, happy that the boy with the bleach blonde bangs was cheerier than he had been in days. He had begun to worry that something was truly wrong, but watching Hikaru's face now he felt as if he had been silly. The other boy couldn't be hiding anything from him.

But Akira was indeed hiding something from Hikaru. When the other boy looked up with those happy green eyes and said, "Akira, I love dessert! Thanks for just being with me tonight."

The boy with the silky cap of chin-lengthed hair only smiled his polite smile and nodded. Inside he was smirking, almost bursting with anticipation. _Oh, Hikaru, my dear, you haven't seen anything yet…_

**Author's notes: **A sort of boring chapter, sorry. I promise the next chapter'll be more exciting … in one way or another. Just to give you a heads up, my next self set deadline is Akiramas, naturally. :p

Thanks to the guys in the Igo club, who have expanded my knowledge on basic Go concepts and helped me with general questions about the Japanese Pro Go world, although they'd probably shit a brick if they knew what I was using the information for. Guys tend to get a little … uncomfortable … with this sort of thing. : smiles innocently :

On one final note: Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!


	5. The Good

**Disclaimer: **Not my series. Not my characters. Only my story.

**Author's notes:** Merry Akiramas: squeal : (Yes, I'm perfectly aware of the fact that he's fictional.)

Warning: I tried to make certain scenes in this chapter very understated, so I don't think it warrants a rating up-ing. (I had a couple of ppl read it over and tell me it'd be fine the way it was.) Let me know if you think it does, and I'll switch it. Let's just say that after two years of dating Akira, Hikaru finally gets to rid himself of some of his frustrations … Enjoy!

**Chapter 5: The Good …**

"Hikaru, are you ready to go to sleep?" Akira called from the bedroom.

_This is so weird,_ Hikaru thought from the bathroom, toothbrush still in mouth. _I usually have to coax Akira into agreeing that he actually needs sleep. He's always the one who is still away studying go, doing homework, or whatever._ "Yeah," he said, voice muffled by toothpaste. "Lemme finish brushing my teeth."

_What is the world coming to if he's wants to go to bed before I do?_ Hikaru asked himself amused. Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, he headed for the room.

When he walked in, he saw Akira already was tucked into bed. "Geez, was spending a relaxing evening with me that tiring?" he joked to his counterpart, eyes fixed on the dark head. When the other boy shifted from under the comforter and sheets, Hikaru saw a glimpse of a pale shoulder.

_Wait … he's not wearing a shirt._ Intrigued, Hikaru entertained the thought, since it was he who chose to go to bed shirtless most of the time. Akira, however, was his own reserved self and insisted on being properly clothed.

"You're not wearing a shirt are you?" he asked, eyes focused on the other boy's reaction. A faint flush dusted the pale whiteness of his milky smooth skin. Akira refused to meet the other boy's eyes.

The gears in Hikaru's head clicked into place, heart quickening in anticipation. "You're not wearing anything under there." It wasn't a question anymore, but more of a bold statement. As he watched Akira's face darken in color, he knew he had hit the head on the nail. _Score!_

"Why would you do something like that, Akira?" Hikaru asked teasingly drawing himself closer to the bed.

Puffing out a breath huffily, Akira felt his face grow even warmer. "Nevermind," he mumbled feeling suddenly shy and embarrassed. "I've changed my mind." Blankets and sheets clutched around him, he got off of the bed and had grandeur ideas of heading towards the armoire to get clothing. _Yeah, this is pretty embarrassing. Why am I doing something like this when I obviously have no idea what I'm doing?_

The bulky cloth wrapped around him provided more of a hassle in restricting his movements than he had expected, and he soon found himself stumbling.

Hikaru's hands steadied Akira's movements. "No way am I letting you go," he informed the dark haired boy, steely look in his eyes. Slowly, he pushed back at the blanket enshrouded Akira, all but throwing him back onto the bed. He climbed up on the bed, kneeling at Akira's feet. Slowly, he pulled the blankets down, revealing the pale skin of his shoulders and chest, tugged at them some more to show a flat stomach. He pulled the rest of the blanket down and watched as the other boy began to grasp the concept of what was about to happen.

Eyes fixed on the body before him, Hikaru simply observed. Akira's heaving breaths lifted the smooth skin of his chest up and down. Pale limbs were sprawled gracefully out against the bed, the milky white of his skin contrasting beautifully with the deep green coloring of his sheets. Dark hair fanned out, creating a beautiful frame for his delicate features. Sea-green eyes looked questioningly at him, a clear indication that he had no idea what he was doing, but those slightly parted, wetted lips told Hikaru that he wanted to.

_God, he's beautiful,_ Hikaru thought simply looking him over, up and down the line of his body. Somewhere during that time, Akira must have gotten uncomfortable with the attention, because he tried to turn away, tried to curl his body in a ball.

"I don't **think** so," Hikaru hummed, forcefully reaching over and placing his right hand on Akira's hip, holding it down and keeping the other boy from moving. "You're beautiful, you know that," he commented. He rose slowly into a crouch at Akria's feet and moved towards him.

Flushing furiously, Akira looked away, turning his head so suddenly that he was able to hide most of his blushing face with the dark curtain of hair that followed the movement of his head.

"Look at me," Hikaru commanded. "Look at me when I'm telling you how magnificent you are."

The head whipped back around sending a wave of liquidy, silky hair back against the pillow.

_KYAA!_ Hikaru thought. "You really are sexy."

Surprise shone in Akira's eyes, as they darted across Hikaru's face, searching for signs of false sincerity. He was not used to compliments from anybody, and at times they just brought his self-consciousness forth. Uncertainly, he sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, chewing on it nervously.

"Don't even tell me you don't believe it. I love you, Akira, and I wouldn't lie to you," Hikaru said, moving up to kiss his cheek tenderly, laying his body almost inline with Akira's. Smoothly, he moved downward, lovingly nipping at the skin of Akira's neck, pleased when the other boy tilted his head back, offering more of his flesh. As he nuzzled, his right hand started from the outside of Akira's shoulder, working its way inwards then down. Fingers lightly worked themselves across the chest, palm flattening against the smooth skin. As his hand wandered downward, he followed suit, running a tongue across Akira's collarbone, kissing down his chest. He distracted himself with one of the nipples, running a tongue across it and hearing Akira gasp at the sensation. The body underneath him writhed as Hikaru was once again on the move, hands teasing the skin of his abdomen. The muscle that lay beneath the velvety skin tensed under his touch.

"Un," Akira uttered, closing his eyes.

It was **that** noise, and suddenly Hikaru just wanted the other boy, wanted him in a way that he had never been allowed to have before. Now he was being offered everything, and so he reached down even further, hand curling around the warm, hard flesh. Akira flinched but for the first time didn't pull away, and Hikaru, lowering his head, could only smile at the response…

-----------------------------

Hikaru was the first to awaken the next day, which was odd. Usually Akira was already out of bed and already ready for the day by the time that he would awaken. _Perhaps, he's not used to being as worn as he was last night,_ Hikaru thought laughingly. Licking his lips, he discovered that he could still taste the other boy on his mouth and at the back of his throat.

For the moment, Hikaru found that he felt plenty contented to watch Akira, who was curled up against his body, sleep. The other boy looked so peaceful with silky strands of dark hair falling across his face and neck. Splayed out against the green of the sheets, the dark locks looked positively ebony. The strongly contrasting colors against pale skin, especially the graceful line of his neck, reminded Hikaru of a swan-like beauty. He couldn't help but run a hand down Akira's bare arm. The resting boy responded reflexively in his sleep, arm moving towards Hikaru.

A heavy sigh on his lips, Hikaru recalled the previous night. It was a very likely possibility that all he would be able to do today was imagine Akira's hands and mouth on the most sensitive places on his body, that smooth, warm tongue working against …

Shivering with the memory, he pulled the blankets up further, until he was fully covered. Akira had been shy, uncertain at first, while reciprocating. But Hikaru was soon pleased to discover that with a little guidance and enough coaxing, the other boy had become quite enthusiastic in the task.

Yes, today, his thoughts would all be focused on last night; he had no doubt. _What's more perfect than this?_ He asked himself, turning on his side to better watch the angelic looking Akira in his slumber.

He didn't know how long he watched the other boy, but he watched with a dopey smile until he saw Akira stir, eyes opening slowly.

"Oh, Hikaru," The other boy said sleepily yawning. That was all he got out, before he snuggled closer, putting his head against Hikaru's chest, draping an arm around him.

Feeling satisfied, Hikaru relaxed his own form letting his eyes close once again. _Who would want to ruin something as perfect as this?_ he thought, pulling Akira's slight form closer to his.

Unbeknownst to him, somebody did indeed want to ruin the perfect little world that he and Akira was living in. Although he didn't know it, another letter had been sent at that point, and the pictures were in hands other than the photographer's…

**Author's notes: **I hope I kept them in character. : sweatdrop : I apologize if I didn't. The plot is moving once more, and the shit is about to hit the fan… You know where to leave comments.


	6. The Bad

**Disclaimer: **Erm, I claim no ownership of Hikago. Do I really have to say this every chapter?

**Author's notes:** Realism may have escaped me this chapter. You have been warned. Apologies for possible occ-ness (I think some exists). Be kind - I'm sick, school starts tomorrow, and my computer has been temperamental.

**Chapter 6: The Bad …**

"Someone should let Touya-sensei know," a senior editor hissed. "It's the kindest thing we can do for Touya-kun."

"The kindest thing is not printing it at all," a reporter responded.

The editor inhaled a sharp intake of breath. "Yeah, but if we don't, the source might go to someone else who won't be as delicate as us. He has already threatened us, and at least we're not going to try to sensationalize it."

"Including the pictures is kind of dirty," the reporter commented

"Hey, it's not our choice. The proof has to be there, and you know it's the best thing we can do for everyone." Inside, he felt a sickening feeling well up.

"You can tell Touya-sensei then."

"Hell no! Can you imagine … It's pretty obvious that he doesn't know. If Touya-kun would tell anybody, it would be his father. If it's being kept a secret, then he must be keeping it from his father. There's no amount of money you can pay me to be the messenger of that news."

"Who can we send?" the reporter asked.

Both men looked at other, and then glanced over at Kamagawa, the most recently hired reporter. When their eyes met again, their face held the same knowing smile.

-----------------------------

Kamagawa Daisuke stood feeling incredibly uncomfortable on the Touya porch, shifting his feet as he waited for someone to come to the door. _The new guy always gets the worst jobs,_ he thought gulping hard when he heard heavy footsteps approaching the door.

Touya Kouyo opened the door, the same stern, unforgiving look that he always had was on his face like a mask.

Kamagawa almost wet himself in that instant. He had joined the Weekly Go as a reporter after the Touya-sensei's retirement, but he had always heard about that intimidating presence. Now he understood what everyone else had meant. That dawning understanding made him gulp hard, while one thought ran through his mind, _I am so sorry, Touya-kun. I really am._

"Is there something I could help you with?"

The deep rumbling voice, although matching the authoritativeness of Touya-sensei, still, somehow, caught Kamagawa off guard. The young reported shoved glasses up on his nose as he felt sweat drip from his forehead. Stumbling to find the right words, he opened and closed his mouth a few times.

"Well?" The ex-Meijin asked again.

_Gyaaa, he really takes up most of the door frame,_ Kamagawa realized. "Umm …" he started. _Oh, this is not a very good beginning._ "I … I'm Kamagawa Daisuke from Weekly Go, and I have an article to show you." He felt ashamed at the fact that he was proud not to have shoved the article into Touya-sensei's hands and run away before the news had time to process.

"What does it concern? I haven't really been in Japan's Go scene lately." He chuckled.

"It's about your son," Kamagawa said hesitantly.

"Akira?" The ex-Meijin pondered the information, eyes narrowing into an intimidating stare at the thought. "Won't you please come in to discuss the matter?"

_Don't wanna. Don't wanna,_ he thought feeling as if his insides would turn to jelly. "I would love to," he lied, pasting a watery smile on his face. With that, he followed the man into the house and took a seat in the living room. After formalities had been exchanged, which included Touya Akiko coming in to offer hot tea, Kamagawa pulled the article out of his bag.

"We were sent these pictures," he said laying all four pictures on the coffee table face down. "Two of them are featured in the article." With that, he let Touya-sensei digest the information, as he sank down as far as possible in his chair feeling very much like a trapped mouse.

Kamagawa had the awkward experience of watching the father's reaction. The ex-Meijin turned over the pictures, lying all of them in visible view on the coffee table. Weighty gaze darted from the photographs to the article, eyes lingering on the two that were included in the article: Hikaru and Akira kissing in what was obviously a public setting and the embrace the couple shared in front of the window of their shared apartment.

Kamagawa winced as he saw Touya Kouyo put a hand to his head, when the other hand touched the picture of his son in bed with Hikaru. _To cover the throbbing vein that has developed,_ he added to himself, biting his lip nervously. He knew this must be an awful way to discover things about your son.

A heavy sigh escaped the ex-Meijin's lips, as he shook his head, eyes narrowed and focused. Although he said nothing, the mood that emanated from him was definitely not friendly. "Thank you for letting me know."

"I … the supervisor said that if you didn't want it to print, we'd take it out," Kamagawa blurted out. It had been true, but it was supposed to be only used if Touya-sensei had reacted badly. At this point, he just felt awfully for both father and son that he offered the solution. He knew that they could still contact the source, make an excuse for a delay at the least to give all involved parties some time to deal with the situation. _Perhaps with the extra time some sort of arrangement can be made_, he thought, wheels turning furiously in his head.

"Does Akira know about the article?"

Kamagawa shook his head miserably.

"When does this come out?" Touya-sensei asked.

"Umm … Sunday." _Today's Thursday._ He counted in his head. "Three days from today." He hesitated. "Touya-sensei, we'll pull it if you want us to," he offered again.

"Akira is eighteen. He is an adult. I have no place meddling in his affairs any longer."

"You won't help him?" Kamagawa whispered horrified. As his eyes met the ex-Meijin's, he saw that the gaze was absolutely icy and unforgiving.

"Being in the public's eye, he must be able to deal with what is thrown his way, especially if they are repercussions of his own careless actions."

_That is the biggest "screw you, son," I've ever heard,_ Kamagawa thought, keeping the words to himself. "Alright then, I'll be off, Touya-sensei." With a polite nod of the head, he walked briskly to the door. Once outside, he ran away from the pressure filled house as fast as his legs would carry him. _Oh, Touya-kun. I assume that the worst is yet to come for you._

-----------------------------

Akira headed home after a day of work, loosening his tie. By home, he meant to his parents' place. It was odd, his father didn't usually call for him on the weekdays, but today he made it plenty clear that he was to stop home no matter what.

_I wonder what could be the matter,_ he thought, suddenly worried about his father's health. _I hope everything's okay. _Nearing the front door, he pulled out a key and entered the house.

When he walked in, Akira immediately removed his shoes, as was customary polite behavior. His father could be seen in the living room ahead staring at the coffee table in front of him.

"Good evening, father," Akira said walking towards him. He looked around for his mother, knowing he should very well greet her too.

"Come here, Akira." The tone in his voice was one that was not to be disobeyed.

"What's wrong, father?" he asked coming to the ex-Meijin's side. Standing next to his father, he gasped, feeling the blood drain from his face. Pictures, pictures of him and Hikaru, four of them spread out on the table as well as a layout for an article in Weekly Go. Suddenly, Akira felt as if he was going to be sick. Wide eyes opened impossibly wider, as he wracked his brain for the perfect thing to say.

"You have nothing to say, Akira?" his father asked him, still staring at the pictures and the article, unable to face his own son.

"Father, I …" Akira shrugged his shoulders helplessly, feeling his eloquence leave him. His heart had since dropped to the bottom of his stomach, and the sound of rushing blood whirled in his ears, making his head spin. Suddenly, he had trouble breathing, actual trouble with the action. Perhaps he thought it was a better idea to suffocate than to face the cold fury of his father's wrath. _I think I'm going to throw up._

"I had an inkling," the ex-Meijin finally offered, voice reserved but authoritative. Akira lowered his head, letting his hair cover his face. His father continued. "I was waiting for you to say something one way or the other, hoping you'd be able to reassure me. But now look at this!"

Akira's hands had already reflexively clenched into shaking fists to help steady himself. "You knew?" he asked surprised.

"Don't think that the father who raised you is dumb. You used to tell me everything, Akira, until Shindou-kun came around."

"I never implied anything of the sort." Suddenly, Akira felt as if he had to defend himself. "I … I just wanted to keep it a secret, because I didn't want people gossiping."

"Then you should have used more discretion!" Touya Kouyo's gaze finally focused on his son. All of the iciness and pressure he could muster was put into that one look. "I recognize this," he said pointing angrily at the picture of the two men kissing, "as a local bar!"

"Hikaru was drunk." Akira felt the words slip out of his mouth before he could stop them.

The ex-Meijin was very much displeased, and so he went another route. Ignoring better judgment, he spat out a statement that he knew was a low blow. "At least I don't have to worry that you're going to get some girl pregnant. Although, I must say, at this point, I'd rather prefer that."

Akira felt rage and humiliation simultaneously rise within him, crashing down on him like a hurricane. His mouth opened angrily, but before he could get in a word, his father continued, eyes trained on his son.

"I assume the two of you are having some sort of sex."

"No, dad!" Akira protested. Even as the words left his mouth, he felt his face flush, remembering the previous night. Since as a child he had never had much to hide from his parents, he had never been good at deceiving them. "I-I don't think I should have to discuss this topic with you." Now was not the time to be pondering what exactly classified as "sex" between two males.

Touya Kouyo's sharp eyes perceived his son's reaction, the averting of his eyes, the squared, defensive shoulders. _He's lying._ "Why, son?" he finally asked. He wasn't sure what exactly the "why" pertained to: why his son didn't tell him, or why his son had chosen Hikaru.

Akira took the second option. "Father, I love him." He was finally able to say those words to his father, but this was not the way he wanted his him to find out. No wonder he was so furious. Angry, sad, regretful tears filled Akira's eyes. _He wasn't supposed to find out like this._

"What do you know about love?" he spat, voice filled with disgust and opprobrium. "You're only eighteen! This isn't love. Your rivalry with Shindou has become a sick fascination. You're not thinking clearly; you don't know how to separate your passion for the game from real love."

Hearing the castigation, Akira became absolutely livid. _How could you say something like that?_ His father doubting the genuineness of his feelings was too much, and he felt something inside him explode. "This is why I didn't tell you; I knew you'd respond like this! You're always so condescending!"

Well, now he had answers to both whys, although he felt less than mollified. Considering the words carefully, the ex-Meijin narrowed his eyes further. "If that's the way you feel, Akira, then I'm going to have to ask you to leave." The way he said the statement was pointed and poisonous, each word loaded with an overbearing sort of barely contained rage.

"I was done talking to you anyways!" Akira cried, whirling around, running to the door, shoving his feet into his shoes, and slamming the door behind him. _I have to get home,_ he thought. _The first thing I have to do is to let Hikaru know._ Not only did Akira believe that it was the only courteous thing to do, he also knew that Hikaru would be the only one who could make him feel better._ If the positions were reversed, he'd do the same for me._

**Author's notes:** This chapter ended up being long … well longer than most. Umm, how many ppl think that Hikaru is going to find himself in trouble very soon? Yaaah … until later .


	7. And the Ugly

**Disclaimer:** You know the drill … I claim nothing.

**Author's notes:** Yahoo! Three day weekend means extra time. Extra time means chapter update! … I just wanted to thank everyone who has reviewed. It lets me know that people are reading, and without readers there wouldn't be a reason to post…

**Chapter 7: … And the Ugly**

Since Akira had gotten a phone call from his father, Hikaru headed home by himself. Like always, he checked the mail, and his heart plummeted when he saw one single letter in the box. The envelope was plain and white. The address was typed. Again, no return address was listed, but this time the envelope was addressed to Akira.

_We'll see about that,_ Hikaru thought angrily stomping upstairs. Kicking off his shoes at the door, he rushed to the study room to get the letter opener. Forcefully inserting the sharpened end, he tugged up, hearing the harsh tearing of the paper. He reached his hand into the envelope and pulled out a simple sheet of white paper feeling fury well up within him. It had a mere two sentences on it, but the message was plenty clear.

_Don't mess with me, you punk,_ he thought, eyes reading the words over and over. Enraged, he crushed the piece of paper in one hand, while the other hand still held the envelope. Still the words were emblazoned in his mind: Ask Shindou about the pictures. I would have protected you better.

"Damn it," he cursed under his breath. Slowly, he tried to control his breathing again, mind working on empty. To the best of his shocked ability, he tried to decipher the words. _Akira has seen the pictures then,_ he realized eyes wide. If he hadn't then there was no way the anonymous tipper would be insisting that he ask about them.

_But when?_ Hikaru asked. _He was fine this morning. If something had happened, it'd have to be..._ He swore his heart stopped when he put two and two together, and he prayed that it was not the case. _Akira went home today,_ he thought. _His father called him home, and he said it sounded like an emergency._

"Oh dear …" Hikaru whispered. _Screwed, screwed, screwed,_ ran through his mind. Sending the pictures to the Touya-sensei was the nastiest thing someone could have done. "My poor Akira …"

_Whoever sent them to him must really be spiteful towards us._ Again his thoughts were returned to the exact wording of the letter. "I would have protected you better," he said aloud figuring it out. _Not spiteful towards us, but me in particular. The culprit has some strange affection for Akira to want to 'protect him better.'_ The conclusion that he had just come floored him, absolutely and completely. _Somebody wants to split us up. I'm sure of it. _To make matters worse, the door burst opened.

"Hikaru!" the voice that called his name sounded desperate and on the verge of tears. Akira was home. Even before he had made his way to Hikaru, the story was spilling out of his mouth.

"Hikaru! Someone knows about us, and there are pictures. And it's awful. They sent them to Weekly Go, and there's going to be an article in next week's issue. And my father knows and … Hikaru where are you?"

_Oh, crap,_ Hikaru thought eyes widening as the whirlwind of information whipped around him. So the situation was worse than he had imagined. Much, much worse. He almost wanted to laugh at the dastardly situation that he and Akira was in, but the other boy sounded so panicked that he knew he couldn't. So, dumbly, he stood rooted in place shaking his head in disbelief. _How can this be happening?_

"Did you hear me, Hikaru?" Akira asked, poking his head in. The other boy stood in the study, his back to the door holding something. "Is that a letter?" Akira asked the unresponsive boy.

"No!" Hikaru answered defensively before he could think about how silly his denial was, especially with an envelope in his hand. _I should have hidden this when I had the chance._ He whirled around and held the envelope and the crushed letter behind his back.

"Hikaru?" Akira asked, cocking his head. "What does it say?"

"Nothing!" Hikaru shot back. He knew it wasn't rational, but he suddenly felt as if he had to hide the letter, hide it at that instant. Making a mad dash for the door, he pushed past Akira, whose smooth hand had managed to tear the envelope from his grasp.

"I-it's addressed to me!" Akira cried outraged. "Why are you reading my mail?"

"It's not for you!" Hikaru insisted stupidly.

"Give me the letter," Akira demanded once he saw that the envelope was empty.

"You'd be better off not seeing it," Hikaru protested weakly. The piece of paper with the loaded message was still crumpled into a ball in his hands.

Green eyes as dangerous as turbulent ocean waves during a storm, Akira extended a hand expectantly. "Give me my letter. I am not in the most tolerant of moods tonight."

"Which is why I shouldn't give it to you," Hikaru said shaking his head. Suddenly inspiration struck. He held up his balled fist. "I'll eat it! I swear I will."

"After what I've been through tonight with my father, I doubt it can be that bad," Akira answered with an exasperated sigh. Wriggling his fingers, he asked for the letter again.

Biting his lip, Hikaru forfeited the crumpled piece of paper and deposited in his lover's hand resigned to his fate. "I wanted to protect you, honestly," he tried. Helplessly he shook his head.

Graceful, artistically long fingers unrolled the wrinkled paper and smoothed out the edges. Quickly, he read the message feeling shock course through his body. Akira had thought that the night couldn't have gotten worse. Apparently he was wrong, dead wrong. "You **knew**?" he shrieked, re-crumpling the piece of paper in his hand and spiking it on the ground.

Hikaru winced.

"How long ago?" he insisted. "How long have you been keeping this from me?"

"T-two … weeks," Hikaru replied, eyes trained on the floor.

"In two weeks worth of time, I could have done damage control … at least with my father. Do you know how furious he was with me tonight?" The hurtful words that were exchanged were still fresh in his mind, stinging like an open wound.

"I didn't want you to worry for no reason."  
"Someone has these intimate pictures of us, is sending them to us, and you don't tell me? You didn't think that the culprit would actually do nothing with them? By sending them to you, it was a pretty strong indication of actions to be taken in the future."

Hikaru, irascible by nature, couldn't take being berated like this. "I'm sorry I'm not as smart as you!"

"You really are thoughtless sometimes," Akira snapped. "You're not the one who had to face my father after a reporter from Weekly Go had stopped by to tell him about us. You have time to tell your parents before this little piece of work comes out."

"I don't care about other people!" Hikaru shot back. "I never wanted to keep it a secret in the first place, as I recall telling you many times. **You're** the one who's ashamed of our relationship. **You're** the one who doesn't want to tell his father. Seriously, you have major father issues."

"Hikaru! Don't make this any worse." Akira's eyes narrowed, voice dipping dangerously low, as if warning his blond banged counterpart not to say any more.

It only pushed Hikaru to peak anger. _You think you can tell me that I'm wrong … that you have the right to tear me down like this._ Eyes burning, he said, "No! I'm pissed. I didn't do anything wrong. I did what I thought was best at the time. I didn't want you to worry, and so I made a decision."

"It was the wrong one!"

"You think that you're the great victim here, but let me ask you … how long were you going to keep us a secret? Don't you think that I deserve more than to be treated as your dirty little secret that you keep at home?"

Akira's eyes snapped open; a true pang of hurt ran through his eyes. His mouth dropped opened, as he found himself shocked speechless for the second time that night. He knew that he should say something reassuring before their fight escalated further but felt as if someone had kicked him in the stomach, stealing the very air he needed to breathe.

Hikaru saw the raw pain shining in Akira's eyes, but he was too far lost in his rage. So, he advanced with his hurtful rampage. "You have nothing to say for yourself? How unlike you, **Touya-san**. You know, you're always so dignified. Sometimes I think that your dignity is worth more to you than I am. Sometimes I wonder why you're even still with me."

Akira's mouth opened and closed, his rage flaring up so high that he didn't know how to calm the flames of his anger any longer. He knew that he was far from perfect, but thought that Hikaru had understood and loved him anyways. Now he felt as if he had misjudged the other boy. Blood bubbling at the accusation, Akira managed to find his tongue in order to retaliate reflexively with comments just as nasty. "Oh, do you now? I'm **so** glad that you're finally letting me know exactly what you think of me. And honestly, you've brought up a good point. You don't seem to regard me very highly, so why **am** I still with you?" With that he turned on his heel away from Hikaru. "I think I'd like it," he said while retreating to the bedroom. "If you slept in the other room tonight."

"Damn it, Akira!" Hikaru cursed, but the other boy had already shut the door. Infuriated at being ignored, Hikaru burst through the door to find Akira sitting on the bed face buried in his hands. He heard a sniffle escape the other boy whose shoulders were shaking, and it almost made him feel bad. In fact, a crying Akira probably would have floored him if he wasn't already so angry.

"Leave, please, Hikaru," Akira requested voice wavering.

"No!" Hikaru insisted. "It seems as if we still have **many** words to exchange."

"I need time to gather my thoughts," Akira told him. "Now, please, **leave**."

Hikaru stood in his place next to Akira. "I won't."

Akira looked up and saw the fuming Hikaru in front of him, eyes determined. _Oh, this is going to end badly._ He didn't want this confrontation, not now, especially after the fight he had just had with his father. But it seemed as if Hikaru did. "Please," he tried once more looking beseechingly into the other boy's stony gaze.

He shook his head to indicate that he wasn't going to leave. Arms crossed, he stood in front of Akira, implacably.

_Why don't you understand?_ Akira wanted to scream at the dense boy. Instead, he avoided the situation, not realizing that he could have quite possibly made it worse. "Fine," he said evenly. Even with tears brimming in his eyes, he leveled his gaze into a glare, the Touya glare that he had copied from his father. "If you won't leave, then I will." With that, he got off of the bed and walked briskly past Hikaru. Half of him wished that the other boy would stop him, but Hikaru made no such move. The slamming door punctuated Akira's rage as he left their apartment.

**Author's notes: **So THERE. Ha … hahaha. How's **that** for drama?

In other news, I have a live journal now (link in profile)! Question: Should I post my stuff in the igoslash community (starting with Worth), or do ppl generally read here as well as there? I'm also posting stuff on lj that isn't allowed here, aka TutixNagayan (Prince of Tennis Musical Golden Pair, for simplification's sake), in the aforementioned community. : sigh : And I thought I'd never cross the line and ship real person slash …


	8. The More The Merrier

**Disclaimer: **These are my words, but not my characters.

**Author's notes:** As promised on my LJ, an update for Valentine's Day. Dun worry; this story is FAR from abandoned. I just got … a bit sidetracked with homework/projects and … well another fandom too. But I still love my HikaAki!

**Chapter 8: The More the Merrier**

_What the heck just happened?_ Hikaru wondered absolutely flabbergasted. _Akira must be really pissed to have stormed out like that. I'm usually the one who storms off. If we're going to make it through the article coming out, it has got to be together._

Anger put aside, Hikaru realized that truth. But he was too dazed to try to figure out anything alone. In this state, he couldn't even imagine where Akira would go.

_His home,_ he thought grimacing, _is definitely out of the question. Whatever happened between Akira and his father couldn't have been pretty._ Although he knew that, he had still let his temper get away from him. When he and Akira argued, it always happened. Both of them had always been quick to anger when it came to the other one. However, their arguments, once they had started dating, usually ended with kisses and apologies. This time both of them had been way too stubborn, and Akira had left more upset than Hikaru had ever seen him. With Akira gone, the silence allowed Hikaru to calm down and rationalize his emotions and to realize how alone the place felt without his partner.

_Oh, what have I done?_ The other boy had been crying on the bed, and he knew that it took a lot to make Akira lose his composure let alone shed tears. With a heavy sigh, Hikaru wondered, _What am I supposed to do now?_ Although he understood why the other boy was on edge and upset with him, he didn't necessarily think that he was wrong, which was the problem. He had really tried to keep the other boy from being hurt. How was he supposed to know that the sneaky bastard of a photographer was going to send the pictures to the Go magazine? Either way, he should have just held his tongue instead of making the situation worse.

_I have to find him._ Hikaru decided._ I have to make it better, but how? _So Hikaru did the only thing he could think of. There had only been two very perceptive people that Hikaru and Akira hadn't been able to hide their relationship from, two people that Hikaru trusted with his life. Now that his life as he knew it was falling apart, he needed somebody to help him get things back to good. _They should be home now._ So he dialed a number feeling his desperation about the situation rise and waited for somebody to pick up.

-----------------------------

"It could be fuuuuun," Waya wheedled blinking golden eyes.

"No way," Isumi told him flatly. "There's no way I'm going to let you talk me into putting those on."

"If you do, I'll do the chores for a week. I swear."

Isumi glance at him with slate blue eyes serious. "And then I'll discover that all of my white clothing has mysteriously turned pink."

"I'm not that bad," Waya muttered sourly.

"You're worse!" Isumi said laughing. He had to admit, even though Waya could be quite irresponsible at times, things were never boring. And they hadn't been since they had officially started dating.

The phone rang in the common room.

"I've got it!" Waya cried, jumping up. He laid handcuffs on the bed next to Isumi and mouthed, "for you to think about," before walking out of the room.

The next thing Isumi was aware of was Waya coming back into the room looking very puzzled. "Alright, alright," he said. "I'll put him on." He tossed the phone in Isumi's direction shaking his head.

"Hello?" Isumi asked the phone, uncertain as to whom to expect.

"Isumi, I … you have to … need to talk … would be nice."

"Shindou-kun?" Isumi asked recognizing the voice. No wonder Waya had looked so perplexed. "You've got to put a whole sentence together, or else we won't get anywhere. Now, what's on your mind?"

"Akira."

"Okay," Isumi said slowly. That wasn't anything new. "So, what is it with Touya-kun? You've messed up, haven't you?"

"I … yeah … and he … and I don't know …" As he spoke, his thoughts became more and more jumbled, the speed of the words quickened, the tone in his voice bordered on hysterical.

He looked up and saw Waya's curious eyes and could only shrug his shoulders. Something was definitely wrong, but he couldn't make it out with Hikaru stumbling on his words.

"Do you want me to come over?"

"Yes."

With a sigh, Isumi was glad that they were actually getting somewhere.

"Don't bring Waya." It was the first coherent sentence that Hikaru had managed to put together. He knew that Waya still had some ill-feelings towards Akira from a time before they had even been acquainted. Although time had dulled the pettiness, Hikaru was sure that Waya would not be rational in dealing with this sort of situation.

"I'll be right over," Isumi answered.

Waya looked at him expectantly once the other boy replaced the phone on the cradle. "What the heck was that?" he asked.

Shaking his head, Isumi replied, "I'm still not quite sure, but it's got to do with Touya-kun."

"What doesn't," Waya remarked somewhat snidely.

"I'm going over," Isumi told him gathering his keys. He hesitated wondering how to tell the other that he was not to come. "You stay here in case I need you to do something."

"What do you mean?" Waya asked. "I want to go too."

"I think," he said, closing his eyes briefly. "That somebody is going to have to find Touya-kun." With a goodbye peck on the cheek, Isumi left Waya to sit on the bed and wonder what in the world was the matter.

-----------------------------

Fifteen minutes later, Isumi stood in front of Hikaru and Akira's shared apartment. After knocking lightly, he tried the knob. It was still unlocked. "Shindou? Are you here?" Slowly, he entered the apartment, seeing the back of a familiar head sitting on a leather sofa. "What is it, Hikaru?" His calm blue eyes observed as Hikaru turned around, movements jerky, the look in his eyes amiss.

"Akira and I are going public," he said, a sort of nervous laughter escaped his lips.

This wasn't the big emergency he was expecting. He knew that it had been a big decision for him and Waya to go public, a decision he knew that Akira could never get himself to consent to. "That's goo—" The anguished look in Hikaru's normally cheerful green eyes stopped him in the middle of his sentence. "That's not good?"

"It's awful!" Hikaru said. "I just … and I didn't want … and now he's gone. Everyone leaves me." _First I lost Sai, and now I'm going to lose Akira too. I can't stand it … I won't be able to stand it._

_We are sooo not doing this,_ Isumi thought, feeling the beginnings of a headache start. "Hikaru!" he said the name sharply, or as sharply as he could manage. "You have to tell me what happened. Now!"

"Well, it started out with these pictures."

The wild look in Hikaru's eyes told Isumi that the other boy was going to start babbling nonsense again. "Show me the pictures," he cut in before Hikaru could say anything else.

Hikaru hung his head, and Isumi walked over to him, taking a seat next to the boy. Four pictures were set out on the coffee table, the damned four pictures that had been the cause of all of Hikaru's strife.

"Who sent them?" Isumi asked.

"I don't know." Hikaru said miserably.

"What else has happened with these pictures?"  
Hikaru turned terrified green eyes to him.

_God, he looks so broken, absolutely devastated,_ Isumi thought. _That bad, huh?_

"I didn't tell him when I got them," he said, his emotion dying away from him. "And he found out about them later."

_At least he's competent again._ "Oooh." Isumi considered the situation, suspicions rising. "How did he find out?" he asked curiosity piqued.

"Someone sent them to Weekly Go."

_Ouch._ "Uh huh," Isumi said soothingly. "And so how did Touya-kun find out. Did someone from the magazine tell him?"

"Worse!" Hikaru cried, putting his face in his hands. "They told his father!"

Isumi felt his heart drop. "That … is certainly worse."

"And I don't really know what happened between them, but Akira came back here really upset."

_Oh, I can imagine. _He knew how imposing the ex-Meijin was. It almost made him breaking the news to his parents seem like a walk in the park.

Hikaru continued his horrifying tale of woe. "At that time, I … I had gotten a letter, but it wasn't mine."

Isumi took the liberty to pick up the envelope and a wadded up piece of paper on the table next to the pictures. "Wow," Isumi said reading the contents of the letter. "That's pretty intense."

Hikaru nodded glumly. "I opened the letter, because I saw that it was the same kind of envelope and typing that the photos came in." He shrugged his shoulders helplessly. "And he caught me. He just got so angry that I didn't tell him, and then I got angry. We said some pretty awful things. When he told me to leave, I refused to, and so he did. I don't know where he is, and there's an article coming out on Sunday."

Isumi, bombarded with too much information at once, sat frozen in his place. "Why didn't you tell him?"

"I … he was just so happy with college, and I just didn't want to worry him. He has that big game coming up with Ogata-sensei …" He wave his hands indistinctly. "It doesn't matter." He turned anxious eyes on Isumi. "Help me fix it."

"Okay, you're going to sit here and gather yourself. I'm going to use the bathroom for a minute. And when I come back, we're going help you put this mess you've created behind you."

Once in the bathroom, Isumi dialed Waya's cell phone from his own. "You've got to go out and find Touya-kun," he hissed.

"Not before you tell me what the hell is going on. There's no way you're sending me after him **and** leaving me out in the dark."

So Waya still didn't completely like Akira. With a sigh, Isumi recounted the basics.

"I can see why Touya-kun's upset about it coming out this way, but seriously, it's been two years. If I were Shindou, I would have made him go out a **long** time ago," Waya commented.

"Waya," Isumi said warningly.

Since Isumi had referred to him with his last name, he knew he had made the other boy mad. "Alright, alright, I'm on it," Waya told him. "But if he can't go to his parents, where would he go?"

"You're smart; you figure it out," Isumi said. "I should get back to Shindou. He looks pretty depressed." With that, the loving couple bid their goodbyes and went about their separate tasks.

-----------------------------

Akira stood outside of a familiar apartment door, not knowing where else he had to go. With a heavy sigh, he knocked on the door and prayed the other man was home.

The inhabitant answered the door with cigarette in hand.

"Good evening Ogata-san," he said politely. "I was wondering if I could impose on you for a couple of days. I need a quiet place to study for my upcoming match."

The blonde haired man took a long drag of his cigarette, puffing the smoke out into Akira's face. "You're playing me next," he said dryly.

The junior looked at his senior, eyes showing shock momentarily before he gained his composure. "So what better place than here to study?" he asked weakly.

"You've been fighting with that boy, haven't you?" Ogata asked, eyes discerning.

"No," Akira told him evenly. "I just don't get much peace and quiet with him around at times. That's all."

"Akira-kun? Have you been crying?"

Nobody knew how to push buttons better than Ogata; no male in his right mind would admit that he had been crying. _Why is he being so perceptive today?_ Akira asked himself frustrated. But then again, Ogata always had been sharp with good instincts.

He tried one more thing. "Should I call your father?"

"NO!" Akira cried sharply, response completely reactionary. Then, he remembered his place and calmly added, "I'd rather you not, Ogata-san."

Pushing up his glasses, Ogata favored the son of his teacher with a new look and backed away from the door. "Alright, Akira-kun," he said shrugging capriciously. "Come on in."

**Author's notes:** Erm … so this wasn't exactly the perfect Valentine's Day chapter … but the plot thickens and will continue to do so. : grins : Look forward to a drunk Akira. You know where to leave your comments.


	9. The More The Merrier Part II

**Disclaimer: ** I am neither Hotta nor Obata. Hikago doesn't belong to me.

**Author's notes: **This was meant to be a White Day chapter, but it's being posted a bit early cuz I've got FINALS on White Day. (Early is better than late, right?) Enjoy.

**Chapter 9: The More the Merrier II**

"Akira?" Ogata asked, pushing up his glasses to the top of the bridge of his nose. He had shut and locked the door behind him and was now staring at the normally calm and collected teenager with watchful, curious eyes.

Akira had seated himself on the couch, staring blankly at the television, eyes glazed, unfocused, and unblinking. Knees tucked under his chin, he held them to his chest rocking back and forth in disturbingly methodical fashion.

"Akira?" Ogata repeated more forcefully, sitting down in the recliner next to him. He had never seen Touya Meijin's son in such a state of disarray. Again he got no answer, so he placed a hand lightly on the young man's shoulder.

Akira's attention snapped towards Ogata, eyes widening with surprise. "O-ogata-san?" he asked uncertainly.

"Do you need me to make you some hot tea or something?" he asked. "It might make you feel a little better."

Eyes still opened wide, Akira shook his head forcefully, sending his hair whipping around his face.

"Are you quite all right?" Ogata asked again, peering with sharp golden eyes through the lenses of his glasses.

Blinking, Akira's eyes wandered from Ogata's face to the place where the other man's fingers lingered. "I … I'm fine," he managed.

"Is there anything that I can do for you?" he offered, fingers squeezing Akira's shoulder lightly to reassure him.

Swallowing hard, Akira shook his head. "No. I'm sorry for the intrusion." His body shook slightly as he spoke, and Ogata backed away.

"It's quite alright, Akira-kun. If there's anything I can do …"

As sea green eyes met golden ones, some of the haziness cleared away. "Actually, there's something that you can do …"

-----------------------------

Akira had taken a spare key from Ogata, thanking the man who had been his father's best pupil, well, with the possible exception of himself. He was without a doubt very depressed. Despite still being furious at Hikaru, he missed the other boy as well. He would have known how to make him feel better even if it was just a simple kiss or lighthearted teasing.

Head throbbing, heart aching, he went to the only place he could think to go to at a time like this, a bar. He had never been to one like this before, but the smaller the bar, he figured the less the chance someone would recognize him. With a heavy sigh, he felt as if his whole body was dragging like he was stuck in some sort of fluid that was thicker than air, forced to move in slow motion. Trembling hands pushed the door open, and through slitted eyes, he allowed a dimly lit, smoke filled room to welcome him.

A few old men were sitting on the other side, enjoying drinks and lamenting about the woes in life. Akira, always a loner, sat on the other side, quietly, hands folded in his lap.

"You look like you've had a rough time," the bartender said, coming to serve him.

Akira nodded mutely, his hair following the movement.

"What can I get you?"

"I-" Akira pondered for a moment. Truth was that he could count the number of times he had been to a bar on one hand. It required him no hands to count the number of times he had been to a bar without Hikaru. "Something strong," he said.

"Are you sure?" the bartender asked, glancing at the forlorn looking boy in front of him.

"I have problems that I want to forget."

The bartender put a shot of Jack Daniels in a cup and mixed it with coke. "For your troubles." With that, he set the glass in front of Akira who picked it up immediately. For a moment, he held the cool glass in his hands feeling the condensation numb his fingers after the initial prickly coolness. With a resigned sigh, he lifted the glass, tilted his head back and downed the contents, the liquid flowing from the cup into his mouth. Grimacing, he found that not only did it hurt as it burned its way down from his throat to his stomach, but it tasted awful as well, like fiery cough medicine. The aftermath left his whole upper chest burning dully.

_This must be what heartburn feels like,_ he reasoned pressing a hand to his upper chest area. Instead of following good sense, he disregarded the slight discomfort in order to forget his problems.

"I want more," he requested, voice dull, eyes listless. _What am I going to do?_ He thought recalling the situation with his father, the situation with Hikaru. When the glass was set in front of him, he picked it up willingly and tossed it back, realizing that it didn't taste or hurt nearly as badly this time. If all went according to his plan, he wouldn't be able to think for very much longer. Tapping the table in front of him, he indicated that he wanted another drink …

-----------------------------

_Where could that Touya brat have gone?_ Waya wondered racking his brains. When he used the word "brat," he didn't exactly mean it anymore. True, he had had his issues with Akira, but he had gotten over most of them. Most being the operative word, since first impressions were almost impossible to erase. The uncaring way that the boy had thrown away his first match in the pro-test had really annoyed Waya; it spoke of an arrogance that he didn't like. But that aside, although the boy was a little reserved, stoic even, he wasn't a bad person. The honest to goodness truth was that Hikaru and Akira loved each other, needed each other in a sort of way that Waya wasn't even sure that he needed Isumi.

_No wonder Hikaru was so incoherent on the phone,_ he thought worry marring his usually cheerful face. Sure, he knew he loved his dark haired counterpart, but he didn't know if he'd cease to exist normally if they were separated. For example, during the experimental stages of their relationship, Isumi had gone to China to study and Waya had been fine. Somehow, instincts told him that it would not have been the case for Hikaru and Akira.

In his mind, Waya ran through possibilities of where Akira would go. _Touya-sensei's study group,_ he thought. _Ashiwara-san,_ came first to his mind, as they were of similar age. Then, he dismissed it shaking his head. Akira would go to someone more … reliable, somebody like… Waya's heart sunk, but he had a feeling his instincts were dead on; they were rarely wrong. _Ogata-san it is. Now where the heck does Ogata live?_

-----------------------------

Isumi was still trying to calm an inconsolable Hikaru. "I'm sure that you both realize that you said things that you didn't mean," he said soothingly.

"I told him he had father issues," he wailed miserably. "I should have never said that."

Blinking hard, Isumi answered, "But that might actually be the truth."

"It got worse too," Hikaru said pained. "And I let it happen. Gah! I'm supposed to understand him better than this. I really messed up." Hands grasped at his hair as if he wanted to tear it all out. "I basically told him that he didn't care enough about me. And then, I asked him why he was still with me … and he … he … What if he doesn't want me back? What will I do then?" Hikaru turned terrified eyes to Isumi. "I'll be homeless and Akira-less."

That headache that was in development stages earlier that night had most definitely become a full-fledged headache. "Now you're just being hysterical. I'm sure that you'll get through this. Your relationship is strong enough."

"But he's never been this angry at me before. Usually pouting and acting cute has gotten me out of everything."

Isumi had to swallow the words, and he asked cautiously, "So you and Touya-kun have never really fought before?"

Hikaru shook his head.

"You've got to be kidding me. Two years and this is the first serious fight you've had."

"Is that odd? Do you and Waya fight a lot?" He looked at Isumi with expectant eyes.

"We started out our relationship with a fight." Isumi said dryly, rolling his eyes at the memory.

Waya hated the formality in which Isumi had revealed their relationship to his parents and decided to be more casual about it. His mannerism at the time had been so flippant that even Waya's parents didn't believe him, and Isumi and Waya had had to spend three whole weeks pda-ing in front them before they realized that their son had been telling the truth. Waya had been amused, but Isumi had been embarrassed and furious at the time. In retrospect he had to admit it was sort of funny.

"And you make it through …" Hikaru commented slowly. "So … it'll be okay?"

"You'll have to ask Touya-kun once Yoshitaka brings him back."

With that, Hikaru rocked back and forth in his place nervously knowing very well that the only thing he could do was wait. He hated waiting.

**Author's notes:** As many have probably guessed by the end of the chapter, I know very little about drinking. I can count the number of times I've been to a bar on one hand. I asked some guy friend many inane questions to try to get a feel for it. (eg: Soo, if you were to get drunk quickly, what would you drink? How many drinks does it take for you to get drunk? What does "hung over" feel like? You get the idea. I tried.)

Stay tuned... More action to come!


	10. Finding Akira

**Disclaimer:** Standard stuff. None of this is mine. I'm borrowing characters and throwing them into another story.

**Author's notes:** Huzzah … for Easter? Yay, for candy and marshmallowy goodness. Ehh, it's as good as any of a reason to post. Actually, fanart has given me a kick in the ass. All I can do is offer this chapter humbly …

I'd really like to extend a "thank you" to everyone who has been reading this ff. You've all been very patient. I'm going to try to be better about updating. :nods:

**Chapter 10: Finding Akira (doesn't hold his alcohol well)**

Waya had discovered where Ogata's apartment was located using a couple of references at the Go Institute. Taking a cab, he found himself wandering in the proximity when he noticed a small hole-in-the-wall type bar. Instincts, sharp as always, he thought, _If I were fighting with Isumi that badly, then I'd get rip-roaring drunk._ Again, he considered that this was Akira rather than himself, but thought there was no harm in looking.

When he stepped into the bar, the smell of smoke hit him heavily and he couldn't help but cough while he waved away the thick wave that wafted toward him. "AHH!" he cried in victory spotting a familiar dark head. "Touya-kun!" He rushed over.

"Is this a friend of yours?" the bartender asked pointing to Akira, who was slouched over in his seat looking into a drink.

"Yeah," Waya confirmed.

"He's not my friend," Akira answered not moving. "He actually hates me. Right, Waya?"

_Okay, he has to be really drunk_. "I don't hate you," Waya said, voice irritated.

"But you used to," Akira said slowly enunciating each word. He tipped his head back and took a swig of the drink.

"I don't hate you," he repeated, taking the edge off of his voice to reassure the other boy. Concerned eyes glanced from the drink in Akira's hand back to the bartender. "What exactly is he drinking?"

"Jack and coke," he bartender said, watching the golden eyes before him widen. A sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach developed. "How many of these has he had?" he asked rubbing at his temples. He got the distinct feeling that things were not going to be pretty.

It was at this point when Akira finally decided to address him. "Waya," he said slowly and distinctly looking up at the boy standing next to him. His face was flushed. "I lost count … ummm maybe five?"

A string of curse words ran through Waya's head as he squeaked, "Five?" Knowing that Akira didn't drink much and that he was rather thin for a boy, Waya sucked in a deep breath getting the feeling that his night was about to get worse, much worse.

"He's holding six," the bartender said.

With a loud sigh, Waya turned intensely disapproving eyes on the bartender.

"I wasn't going to give him another one," he defended. "Plus, he spilled most of number four."

Shaking his head, exasperated, Waya turned his attention to Akira. "Touya-kun, let's go home."

"No!" he said. "I'm staying with Ogaaaaata-san," he slurred taking a sip of his drink.

"Okay," Waya said. "You're not finishing that drink." With that, he managed to pry the glass out of a protesting Akira's hands.

"Gimme my drink back!" Akira cried, uncoordinated hands making a grasp for the glass that Waya held out of his reach.

"You've had enough. Come on, let's go, Hikaru's worried about you."

"No he's not," Akira countered glumly, light in his eyes dimming. He was being forced to think and feel; it was not fun. The sluggish gears in his brain turned. "If so, then he …" he paused as if considering something. Instead he gave up on the thought and finished with, "I wouldn't be here if he was."

_This is not going to be easy,_ Waya thought rolling his eyes. A depressed, drunk Akira was rather petulant and childlike.

Akira slumped against the counter, setting his heavy head down. "You know what Waya?" he asked. "When I move my head, I can see two of you!"

_He's completely trashed,_ he thought. If he didn't know why Akira was in such a state he would be inclined to laugh. He had never seen Akira as anything but completely dignified, but state of affairs was rather tragic. "Come on," he encouraged. "Chin up." He forced his hands to pry Akira's face up. "It's better if you move around. Don't you want to go back to your home and go to sleep in your own bed?"

"I told Hikaru that only one of us could be there," the other boy said oddly serious. "I left. I'm the bad one."

"No, no. It wasn't all your fault. You had a reason to be angry. Come on now. Be a good boy."

"He said stuff … and I was angry."

"I know you were," Waya said soothingly. "That's why you have to work it out. Come on, let's go"

"I said stuff too," he continued mournfully as if Waya hadn't spoken at all. "Stuff is bad."

"Okay, we have to get you home, **now**," Waya insisted.

Akira considered the words and then felt his eyes slide shut. Suddenly he was so sleepy. "I'm tired. Good night." Head once again fell to its resting position on top of the counter.

"No! No, no, no!" Waya cried frustrated. _You sooo owe me, Hikaru._ "Come on, let me help you stand." With that, he hoped his arms underneath Akira's armpits and dragged the other boy to his feet. As an experiment, he let the boy go to see how he stood on his own. Like expected, he watched the other boy's legs sway as he took a reflexive step bumping into the counter in front of him. Arms once again closed around Akira to help steady him.

"Standing isn't fun," Akira protested rocking back and forth on uncertain feet.

"Okay, hold onto the table in front of you," Waya coached. "Lean against it if you need to. Can you do that for me?"

"Can I sleep standing up?" Akira wondered aloud following Waya's instructions.

"Sure," the auburn haired boy answered rolling golden eyes. He looked at the bartender and asked for the tab. "I'm not paying this! Touya, get your wallet. You're Touya Kisei; come on. You have more money than I do."

Clunk. The dull sound, like a melon dropping, caught Waya's attention, and when he looked over at what had caused the disruption, he saw that Akira had let himself slip, his head having hit the edge of the counter. One hand clutched at the counter to keep him from completely falling on the floor, while the other one was rubbing a spot on his head painfully. Waya, patience running thin, was at least rewarded with the fact that at least Akira was listening to him. The hand that rubbed the forming knot on his head reached into a pocket, and he proudly offered Waya his wallet. Grabbing out a handful of bills, he left it on the bar and began to hoist Akira into a position that was easily transportable. It was at this time, someone tapped him on the back.

"Yes," he hissed at the person before turning around. An old man stood behind him with a friend.

"Did I hear you say that this was Touya Kisei?"

"Yes," he answered shortly.

"I thought so," the man said rubbing his chin. "But I wasn't so sure."

_How many young men do you know with chin-lengthed hair?_ Waya thought sarcastically. But he nodded obligingly at the older men. "As you can see, Touya Kisei is in a bad state now. I should get him home."

Without waiting for a response, he dragged a limp Akira behind him. "Come on," he whispered. "Those people know you are back there. You don't want them to see you like this, right? Where's that Touya dignity you have?"

He noticed the look on Akira's face as he said the words. Green eyes regained a bit of intelligence as he sadly said, "After Sunday, they won't even remember this. They'll have much better things to talk about that concern me."

_Shit, I'm an ass,_ Waya thought. "Come on," he encouraged.

Akira smacked his lips. "I dun feel so good," he commented, head lulling back and forth while Waya struggled with supporting him as well as moving forward. A sour, bile-like taste was building in the back of his throat.

"If you throw up on me," Waya warned. "I will kill you."

Akira considered the words carefully and then clamped his mouth shut.

From the other side of the dank bar, another young man went unnoticed. Frustrated fingers clutched his beer tightly. He, indeed, had followed Akira to the bar waiting until it was obvious that the dark haired boy was intoxicated to slip in. At that point, he had been contented just to watch Akira toss back drink after drink, taking in his image. Akira's dark hair flowed like liquid obsidian when his head moved, drawing some sort of natural attention to him. That delicate bone structure still stood out sharply in amazingly smooth, pale skin, reminding him of carved marble. Even as Akira's expression changed from troubled to lax, he still managed to keep a certain air of dignity around him. Yes, even in his drunken state, Touya Akira was nothing short of magnificent, as he always was. Disappointed, he cursed the fact that Waya had come in when he was about to go and comfort the other boy. Angrily, through narrowed eyes, he watched as the golden-eyed boy led the other boy out of the bar and, as he conjectured, back to Hikaru.

**Author's notes:** Again, I don't drink much. All of my knowledge was gleaned off of friends. I hope it seems reasonable to those who know the drinking scene. … So what awaits Akira at home … ? And who is this stalker? 0.o Hmmm…


	11. The Way Back Home

**Author's notes:** I finally got all of my Hikago stuff moved from to lj. Yay! Now, everyone can read from wherever is the most convenient for them.

**Disclaimer:** Not my characters. Not my series. I just like to mess with their pretend lives.

**Chapter 11: The Way Back Home**

"So who do you think would do such a thing?" Isumi asked trying to distract Hikaru's attention elsewhere.

The blonde-banged boy fretted over the question coming up with no answers. "Who hates the idea of the two of us together? I mean, who else knows? Besides you and Waya?" Green eyes widened. "Waya always disliked Akira. He hated the fact that we hid ourselves. I mean, and he knew too. All he needed to do was …" His voice trailed off as he entertained the idea.

Isumi sitting next the boy felt his good nature snap. "I understand that you're upset over this situation, Shindou," he said a quiet anger in his voice. "But please do not make implications that will force me to be angry with you."

"Yeah," Hikaru said sighing. "I'm sorry. I know Waya would never betray us."

"And speak of the devil," Isumi said when the door opened.

A harassed looking Waya entered, arms supporting an uncoordinated Akira. "Okay," the auburn haired boy was coaching. "Uh huh, just like that. You can take another step, one foot in front of the other. We're almost there."

"Is the world supposed to spin?" Akira was asking marveling at the fact that the world moved with him. Obediently he took another step and felt himself stumble. Hand flailed, trying to grip at Waya's shoulders. Somehow he had miscalculated and felt clumsy fingers close around strands of hair.

"Ouch!" Waya cried, letting go of the boy reflexively to put a hand to the sore spot on his head.

Akira found that he couldn't even force himself to stand on his own. Without Waya's support, he stumbled backwards, the world moving in its dizzying fashion. Hands grasped for something to hold him up, but were met with empty air, and suddenly as his body hit the door behind him, he suddenly didn't think that falling was such a bad idea. Crumpling to the ground, he laughed. Somehow it was funny. "I'm a mess, aren't I, Waya?" Torrents of giggles escaped him and he couldn't stop it.

"Don't just stand there!" Waya exclaimed addressing Isumi and Hikaru. As he turned golden eyes to the boys who had risen to greet them, he saw a pair of shocked faces, wide eyed, mouths hanging open.

Suddenly, Hikaru was in action, vaulting over the couch to reach Akira rather than walking around it. "Akira!" he cried concern overwhelming his earlier frustrations. Kneeling on the floor, he helped the other boy up.

The laugher sated once Akira was on his feet. It had hurt, and the world was still spinning. "Hikaru," the other boy managed to slur upon recognition. "Are you still angry?" As he spoke, he realized that his mouth was watering, and he couldn't stop it. _I don't feel so good._ Before Hikaru could answer, Akira was already speaking again. "Waya?" he asked.

"What is it?" the other boy, who was already making his way across the room to Isumi, asked tiredly.

"I don't feel so good again. Can I throw up now?"

Looking at the couple near the door, Waya, with a slightly vengeful smile, said, "Go ahead."

Clutching at the cloth of Hikaru's t-shirt, Akira found his body retching in order to rid itself of what it so desperately needed to. His head lowered onto Hikaru's chest as his body jerked to further dispense a stream of chunky fluid from his mouth, manifesting itself in the wet mess that dripped down Hikaru's chest.

-----------------------------

Nearly half an hour had passed by the time Hikaru had managed to force Akira to take a couple of aspirin with a Gatorade. It then took another half an hour to coax Akira's unresponsive body to the bathroom, insisting that the other boy shower. Both of them were covered in puke, and he couldn't let Akira stay that way, especially knowing how much of a neat freak he normally was. When the other boy had finally gotten his instructions and begun undressing himself, Hikaru left, satisfied. He had since taken off his shirt and had let it soak in some water and was now lounging in an armchair with Isumi and Waya on the couch next to it.

"I can't believe you told him to throw up on me," He blond-banged boy gritted out bitterly.

"Hey!" Waya defended. "It was a **long** night for me. I never want to drag your drunken boyfriend home for you **ever** again."

"Thank you, Waya, for bringing him back to me. If not, who knows where he would have gone."

"Ogata-san's," Waya answered, taking a swig out of the coke can that Hikaru had offered him. He got a kick out of the way green eyes in front of him widened, the face paling.

"Thank you," Hikaru repeated again in a hushed whisper. For some reason, he always had a sneaking suspicion that Ogata had a sort of unnatural fascination with Akira, and it had always made him slightly nervous.

"Hey, by the way," Waya commented. "Touya's been in there for a while."

"I was thinking the same thing," Isumi cut in, eyes glancing towards the bathroom door. "Perhaps you should check to make sure that he hasn't fallen asleep or passed out. You mentioned him not having eaten before doing all of that drinking."

"You mean, walk in on him?" Hikaru asked looking a bit scared. A sober Akira would never have allowed something like that.

"Why not?" Waya asked. "It's not like there's nothing you haven't seen." Peering into Hikaru's red face, he said. "No way … have you and Touya never …"

Hikaru, not one to flush easily, just opened and closed his mouth trying to find the right words.

"Touya-kun seems to be the kind that would be rather reserved." Isumi commented, looking at a laughing Waya.

"That's what people would think about you too," Waya said waving his hand. "But, really you're quite—"

"Waya!" Isumi shot warningly.

Gasping, Waya clamped a hand over his mouth, uttering an apology. There it was: his last name. He had angered Isumi again.

Hikaru tried to come in with his explanation at the moment of silence. "No, it's not that we've never ..." He felt his cheeks grow even hotter. Discussing sex, especially the lack of, was rather embarrassing. "It's just that last night was the first time we'd …" At this point, he knew that he wouldn't be able to manage to finish the sentence. "Nevermind."

"What did you guys do?" Waya asked, golden eyes trained on Hikaru. "Hand job? Blow job?" He watched the other boy's shoulders tense ever so slightly at his second mention. "Ahh," he said, eyes sparkling at the give away.

"You're embarrassing him," Isumi scolded.

"Yeah," Waya said a bad-boy grin plastered on his face. "But seriously, two years! And that's all the action you've gotten? I mean, I always thought that the two of you would be all over each other. It's obvious that you guys are **very** into each other."

"It has been a sort of frustrating two years in that respect," Hikaru admitted feeling himself return slightly back to normal. "I think Akira thinks sex is taboo. He's rather old fashioned." With that he nodded towards the door. "But I think I should check up on him now."

"Hey, Shindou?" Waya asked, eyes still trained on Hikaru.

"Huh?" he replied, turning around.

Sharp, golden eyes looked over the figure before him, lingering on wide shoulders and a firm chest. "Hmm," he muttered, glancing at muscle definition that was beginning to show in the stomach area. "Have you been working out lately?"

"Heh. You can tell?"

"You really love him, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do. Couldn't imagine life without him."

"Go, go," Waya said, shooing his friend away, taking the opportunity to lean against Isumi.

Hikaru padded towards the bathroom. "Akira?" he asked, knocking on the door before opening it. Walking to the shower, he pulled back the curtain to see the other boy lying on the floor of the tub, pale, thin body curled into a ball a spray of hot water running over him.

"Akira!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing?"

"Resting," he answered one eye cracking open at the distraction. "Oh, Hikaru, it's you."

"Don't you 'oh, Hikaru' me," Hikaru said fussily. "Come on. Are you clean?" Surveying the body in front of him, he noticed remnants of soap that clung to the body. Gentle hands cupped falling water and brought it over to Akira's body, rinsing off remainder of the suds.

"My body isn't doing what I tell it to," Akira commented, trying to sit up, but collapsing in the process. "Why am I so tired?"

"Because you're drunk, hon." Hikaru offered a hand and helped his lover establish a steady sitting position. "Really, really drunk. You'll probably regret it tomorrow." He chuckled.

"Oh." Akira thought about these words and decided not to linger on them. "My face feels numb," he commented, putting hands to a flushed face. "Is that normal? Like it's like my whole head is asleep."

"Oh yeah," Hikaru said. "You're drunk."

"You're taking care of me, aren't you?"

"Because you're a mess," Hikaru said, hand cupping Akira's face lovingly.

"Does this mean we're not fighting anymore?"

"I don't want to fight, do you?"

Akira shook his head forcefully, splashing droplets of water against Hikaru's chest. Groaning, he clutched his head. Somehow the world was spinning again. "I'm sorry."

"What for? I'm the one who's sorry. I kept secrets from you, however good the intentions were. It ended up hurting you. I said terrible things, too."

"I'm rigid and set in my ways. I'm old fashioned and stubborn. I'm sorry you have to put up with me."

Hikaru laughed. "I'm just as stubborn as you are. And I'm sloppy and stupid. It's fine."

"Sometimes I'm afraid you'll find someone better and leave me." In his drunken state, the emotion of worry cleared his once glazed eyes.

"I'm afraid of the same thing, you know?" Hikaru asked softly. The next thing he was aware of was Akira fingers hooking at the top of his jeans and him being pulled into the tub, tumbling into a warm embrace. In a kneeling position, he held Akira's body close, feeling wet hair being rubbed against his chest.

"I'm home," Akira whispered. (1)

"Welcome back," Hikaru answered with the proper response.

(1) I imagined this part as typical anime "tadaima/okaeri" scene, but as mentioned with Worth I hesitate to include random Japanese into my writing. However, if you watch enough anime, you should know what I'm talking about.

**Author's notes:** Now altogether: "Awww …." Well, I hope that's what you all are doing, b/c that's the mood I was going for. Seriously, I can't have **everyone** in **all** of the ffs I'm working on be unhappy. :nods:

And, may I add "HA!" An update and it's not even a holiday. Anyways, feel free to leave comments for this little writer monkey.


	12. The Art of Love

**Author's notes:** Happy Fourth of July weekend! Hmm, perhaps I DO have a tendency to update around holidays…I raised the rating just to be safe.

**Chapter 12: The Art of Love**

Peeling off his wet clothing, Hikaru took the time to half-clean himself, ridding his body from the last remnants of puke that clung to his skin. Akira sat at the opposite side of the tub floor, eyes closed, head resting against the lip of the tub. He seemed contented enough, even if he still showed signs of drunken grogginess.

"Yosha!" Hikaru said pumping a fist. "Let's get out of here before Waya and Isumi become tired of waiting for us." First he wrapped a towel around his waist, and then he tended to Akira. Taking the biggest towel, he wrapped it around his drunk counterpart, restricting movement from his shoulders to his knees. Slowly, he coaxed the clumsy body into a sitting position.

"I can't move," Akira protested from his place on the floor.

"Would you want to move even if you could?" Hikaru asked, rubbing Akira's hair with another towel, removing the excess water.

Akira opened his mouth as if to protest, then shrugged. "I suppose not."

"Yeah, I was planning on carrying you regardless of what you said," Hikaru admitted. "All wrapped up like that. You're like a piece of sushi." He laughed.

The idea took a while to register in Akira's sluggish brain. "Hey," he protested, but by that time, he found himself being carried like a baby from the bathroom floor and out the door.

Giving a cursory glance towards the side, Hikaru was relieved to find that Isumi and Waya had taken the liberty to steal a goban from the other room and were already immersed in a game. At least this way his guests could entertain themselves while he took care of Akira.

"Hey, you want us to leave?" Waya asked his eyes lingering on the state of undress each boy was in.

"No!" Hikaru exclaimed, catching the implication from their earlier conversation by the way Waya raised one eyebrow suggestively. "I'm going to let Akira rest, then …" He shrugged, a loss for words. "Maybe you can help me figure out who'd do such a thing. Waya, you've got good instincts."

"Hell yeah!" the auburn haired boy said, flashing a brief peace sign before returning to the game and placing a stone with a strikingly loud sound.

"Someone's playing Go," Akira mumbled. "I want to see. Put me down, Hikaru!"

"It's just Waya and Isumi," Hikaru told Akira.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Waya cried, pride wounded.

Hikaru shot him an almost desperate look and then nodded at Akira, who was starting to struggle in his arms.

Understanding the message behind the Hikaru's dismissive tone, Waya rolled his eyes and waved them off. "Alright, put your drunken toy to bed, and we'll continue this later."

"T-toy!" Akira objected at Waya's label. But Hikaru just laughingly hoisted him in his arms and spun him around a couple of times just for fun. Nausea rose in the pit of Akira's stomach. "Don't make the world spin any more than it already does," he warned trying to be as serious as possible, which was difficult with that drunken, slurred voice of his. "I'll throw up again."

-----------------------------

"There we go," Hikaru said gently setting Akira down on their bed. He watched as the other boy struggled and fussed with uncoordinated limbs to get himself undone from the towel.

"Aren't you going to help me?" he asked wriggling helplessly, bound tightly by the cleverly rolled terrycloth.

"Nope," Hikaru said laughing as he pulled some of Akira's clothes from their armoire. Even as he teased, he walked over and sat at the edge of the bed, untucking certain edges of the towel and began unwinding it from Akira's body. "There you go," he said softly, letting the pile drop in Akira's lap, for modesty's sake.

Blushing furiously, Akira thanked him, hands clutching at the damp cloth. Next to him, he found that Hikaru had put a set of clothing next to him and was perched at the edge of the bed, looking the other way. For the time being Akira could only stare, catching a glimpse at his lover's face, the curve of his cheek that turned into that stubborn jaw that he loved to kiss.

Who knew if it was the utter sweetness that Hikaru was treating him with despite of their argument earlier that night, or whether it was the alcohol, Akira felt a longing surge through his body wrapping core of his being in a layer of heated silk, light, teasing, and seductive. Throwing the towel aside, he pressed his naked body against Hikaru's back and was rewarded with a sharp gasp of surprise.

"Wh-what are you doing, Akira?" he asked alarmed.

"I love you, Hikaru," he said, wrapping his arms around the other boy, pressing his naked body against Hikaru's back. "I want you to love me."

"I do love you," he said. "You know that."

"That's good," Akira said slowly, processing the words with sluggish gears. "Ne, Hikaru," Akira said slyly, hands tugging gently at the towel that was still wrapped around Hikaru's waist. "Let's have sex." He made the suggestion almost carelessly, as if asking Hikaru to get him a glass of water.

Surprised, Hikaru felt his mouth drop open. "W-we can't. I can't," he stammered shaking his head.

"Why not?" Akira whispered into Hikaru's right ear. Why couldn't he ever do things like this before? Now, he found it so easy, so easy to promise sex, to use his body as a tool to get what he wanted from Hikaru.

"Why not?" he asked again, pressing the evidence of his desire into the small of Hikaru's back. He watched in satisfaction as the boy in front of him shuddered deliciously. "Don't you want to know what it feels like … to be inside me?

Groaning, Hikaru managed to say, "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for you to say that."

"Then why not?" he whispered huskily, hand reaching down inside the edge of the towel.

Suddenly, Hikaru turned to him and disengaged his hand. "You're drunk, Akira," he said flatly.

"So what?" the intoxicated boy said waving his hands to dismiss the fact. To prove that he didn't care, he laid down on the bed motioning for Hikaru to follow him. "Touch me," he whispered, running fingers down the length of himself, legs spread invitingly.

_Oh, God, that's hot,_ Hikaru couldn't help thinking as he watched mesmerized as Akira's fingers closed around himself, squeezing gently. Shaking his head to clear the haze from it, Hikrau moved to a kneeling position between Akira's legs.

"This isn't like you," he said shakily. Hands reached out in order to pin both of Akira's wrists down onto the bed, beside the boy's head.

"Don't you want me?" Akira asked.

"It's not that," Hikaru countered weakly. As Akira continued pleading softly for him, he felt himself coming closer and closer to giving in to his desire. It took every ounce of his control not remove the towel tied around his waist, his last restriction, and slam himself into the willing boy. The memory of last night was so fresh on his mind that he could imagine the other boy panting and making those exquisite little noises that only made him want him more. He could almost feel Akira's delicate body moving underneath him and hear the dark haired boy crying out his name.

"Then why not?" The look in Akira's eyes was questioning, even a bit scared, showing the underlying innocence.

That look saved Hikaru, returned control to him, and he let out a shaky laugh of relief. _My sweet, sweet Akira._ "It's because I love you. If we made love the first time like this, you'd hate it when you woke tomorrow morning. I want both of us to remember everything about the experience. So I'll wait for you to become ready for sure." He then planted a kiss on his lover's forehead. "Get dressed and get some rest. I'll take good care of you tomorrow when you're nice and hung over." He walked over and got clothing for himself and slipped on boxers, a pair of black athletic shorts, and an annoyingly bright yellow t-shirt, the one with the "5" emblazoned into it.

"I'm going to go talk to Waya and Isumi now," he wanted to let Akira know. When he turned around, he noticed that the other boy hadn't moved from his place, the steady rising and lowering of his chest suggesting that he was already asleep. He hadn't managed to dress himself. Shrugging his shoulders, Hikaru merely covered the boy with the sheets and covers. "I love you, you fool," he whispered, gently touching the curve of a delicate white cheek.

"Hnnnn," Akira hummed in his sleep at the touch.

With a smile, Hikaru headed outside to converse with friends who were awaiting him, feeling the heady warmth of deep love, that soul shaking sort of bond, spread over him.

**Author's notes:** Sooo close but yet so far. I'm trying to become more comfortable with writing lemony goodness. I find it hard to do HikaAki p0rn b/c their love is so pure…

Other things to note: I want to let the readers know that I don't plan to abandon this story. However, I think it is necessary for me to mention that it is not my top priority ff. hides to avoid stoning, or whatever it is you guys do these days

If you like Kai-chan's writing, I suggest you go to my lj account and check out "Medium," which is what I'm focusing on. It's a TutixNagayan AU, so you can think of it almost as an original fic with borrowed personalities, unless you're in the TxN lj community; in that case, please continue reading Medium.


	13. Musings and Hangovers

**Disclaimer: **Ownage? It's not mine.

**Author's note: **I apologize for the long wait between chapters. I hope this will satisfy you guys for a bit. Enjoy! And if you feel inclined, let me know what you think.

**Chapter 13: Musings and Hangovers**

Pausing at the door, Hikaru took one last glance at Akira before heading out into the common room where Waya and Isumi sat waiting. The game that they had started earlier that night sat unfinished with both players looking at the board with absent stares.

"How is he?" Isumi asked, immediately concerned, as Hikaru made his way to the couch.

With a heavy sigh, Hikaru stood giving the goban a glance. Focusing on the halfheartedly played game in front of him was better than thinking of how things had gotten so complicated. Correction, how he had let things get so complicated. He supposed it could be worse. At least he and Akira weren't fighting anymore; that had to count for something.

'_Something until that damned article comes out and shoots our little, comfortable life to shit,'_ he thought, clenching his teeth in anger.

"Shindou? Earth to Shindou!" Waya was saying, looking up at his friend.

"Huh?" Hikaru asked, jolting back into reality. "Sorry … I was just lost in thought."

"Me too," Waya commented, an eyebrow arching playfully. "I was just thinking that you sure took a while in there with Touya. You've discovered that drunken sex can be fun?"

"Don't be crass," Isumi scolded, shooting his boyfriend a dirty look. "The first time is supposed to be special."

Cocking his head, Waya thoughtfully tapped his index finger against his bottom lip. "Then how come we—"

"Shut up!" Isumi interrupted flushing furiously.

Hikaru found himself snickering. Somehow Waya's playful teasing managed to help ease the tension that had built up in the room. Distracting himself, Hikaru shook his head and took a seat on the couch. "Maaan, you two are baaad."

"I'm not bad," Isumi sniffed. "He's the bad one." He pointed an accusatory finger at Waya.

"And you're to blame, too, for never stopping me," the auburn haired boy said laughing.

The things that Hikaru found himself discovering today were shocking indeed, and he opened his mouth to say so, until Isumi spoke.

"So now that Touya has been taken care of – well as much as he can be taken care of for the time being – what are you going to do?" Isumi asked gently.

"I don't know what I _can_ do," Hikaru said frustrated. "It's like knowing a bomb is going to go off but not being able to do anything. I can't stop it." He lowered his head to his hands, burying his face into his palms. The stress of hiding the terrible secret for the past two weeks and the memory of the hurtful words that had been exchanged during his fight with Akira continued to stretch his already frayed nerves thin. If he didn't regain some sort of control, he was afraid that they'd snap, leaving him nothing but a raving loon.

"Shindou," Isumi broke in with a suggestion. "Maybe you should call the Go Institute for Touya and perhaps any students that he tutors tomorrow just to let them know that he won't be showing up. I doubt that he'll be feeling well enough tomorrow to meet those obligations."

"He did look pretty drunk," Waya agreed. "Man is he going to be hung over." He snickered and was silenced by Hikaru's unamused glance.

"That's a good idea, Isumi," he said with a tired sigh. Control. This was a form of control. Taking care of things for Akira would keep him from going crazy. Walking over to phone, he put a finger up to indicate that he needed silence for a minute. He called the Go Institute and left a message on their machine. "This is Shindou Hikaru, and I'm calling to let you know that Touya Kisei is really sick and won't be able to make his appointments tomorrow. I'd also like to cancel mine as well to take care of him." That would take care of any public events that he had to deal with. He knew that he was teaching something to some school tomorrow, but the details seemed unimportant now. Glancing at a clock, he decided that calling personal clients would be inappropriate at this hour.

'_I'll call tomorrow,'_ he thought. '_And if I forget, at least the Institute knows.'_ With official business taken care of, Hikaru felt better that he had done something, that he was able to do something. Turning to Waya and Isumi, he asked, "So who do you think would do something like this?"

"Well," Isumi said thoughtfully. "It's not just someone who happened upon the relationship."

"That's for sure," Waya agreed. "Especially with that letter. It's got to be someone who would profit from you and Touya's splitting up."

"From looking at the letter, someone wants to take Touya for himself," Isumi said.

"So, you've got competition," Waya stated simply. "All we just have to figure out who knows the two of you well enough to figure out where you guys live and such."

"It wouldn't be very hard," Hikaru argued. "Anyone can find that stuff out from the Go Institute."

"That night," Waya commented, picking up the bar photo. "Your third game in the Honinbou league. Who was there? Who knew we were going?"

"Everyone," Hikaru said miserably. "There was a lot of loud shouting that was pretty much an open invitation. It was a big game. Kurata was really angry at having lost."

"Who knows the two of you?" Isumi asked focusing down on the facts once more. "Who is smart enough to have guessed without having been told? Who stands to profit, thinking that this would split Shindou and Touya up?"

Waya's golden eyes darkened as he thoughtfully cupped his chin in his hand. "O-ogata?" Waya asked, testing a theory out.

"I'll kill him!" Hikaru exclaimed on first reaction, fists bunched.

"Calm down, Shindou. We don't know anything for sure yet," Isumi reasoned.

"Well," Waya started. "He was staying at Ogata's. And we have all seen the way that he's sort of, well. He does have some sort of fixation with Akira. I'll admit that much."

Hikaru was going to open his mouth to say something, when the phone rang. Shocked by the unexpected, shrill noise in the middle of the night, he literally jumped before getting his bearings and hurrying to the receiver. "Hello?" he asked. The next thing Waya and Isumi heard was a sharp intake of breath. "Ogata-san?"

The couple looked at each other, eyes wide.

"Yes… oh?" There was a pause where Hikaru took a deep sigh and raked a hand through his hair, eyes looking particularly defeated. "He's made his way back here. You'll get your key back tomorrow." Hikaru nodded as if he were having a physical conversation, one hand gesturing angrily. "No, we're not fighting!" Then his voice quieted. "You'll understand Sunday."

"So, it's not Ogata?" Waya asked when Hikaru returned to the couch.

"He … he seemed very concerned about Akira. He said that when Akira went to find him it looked as if he had been crying and had asked him not to contact his parents. Him calling and seeming this genuinely concerned would be really weird if he didn't know what was going on." Shaking out his bangs and focusing on the ceiling, he asked to nobody in particular, "What am I doing?"

"I didn't think so," Waya said. "Someone like Ogata wouldn't use methods like this. Do you know anyone who's petty and has a lot of bitterness … and is fascinated by Touya?"

"Who isn't fascinated by Akira?" Hikaru asked mournfully. "Everybody in the Go World has their eye on him."

"You know what?" Waya exclaimed, snapping his fingers. "I bet the magazine knows who sent it. There's no way they'd publish it without confirming its accuracy, what with the new technology that can easily manipulate photos."

"How come you can be so smart sometimes?" Isumi asked Waya, planting a kiss on the other boy's cheek. "That's a great idea. Go in and ask. Force them to tell you."

"I'll do that," Hikaru said. "But not tomorrow. Tomorrow I have to take care of my poor, will-be-hung-over Akira."

-----------------------------

"You awake?" Hikaru asked cheerfully from his place next to Akira on the bed.

"Ugg," the other boy responded stirring. He shook his head and moaned, "Not so loud. And don't you dare sound so happy."

Unable to help himself, Hikaru laughed at this groggy, grumpy Akira, who was completely different from the normally professional Akira he knew.

"I have to work!" Akira exclaimed, sitting up suddenly and then immediately regretting it. Putting a hand to his head, he tried to rub at his temples to assuage the sharp, stabbing pain. "I don't feel good."

"Yeah, I figured," Hikaru said, this time speaking softly. "I canceled your appointments and mine today."

"Why yours? You lazy bum." Akira asked, lying back down.

"Because I know you're not going to want to move around all day. This way I'll be here to help you."

"Mmmmm," Akira muttered, rolling his body on its side and hiding his head underneath his arm. "Why is the sun so bright? Are the shades drawn all the way?"  
"No," Hikaru answered, walking over and tugging on the string that closed the blinds. "Aww, baby's first hangover." With an amused grin, he returned to Akira's side and kissed him on top of the head lovingly. "You know you're even adorable when you're hungover?" Hands entwined with Akira's hair, brushing fingers through knots that had been created during Akira's slumber.

"Hi-hikaru, could you not do that?" Akira asked, voice coming out in a harassed groan. "My hair hurts."

That comment elicited another laugh from Hikaru, who withdrew his hand.

"You think this is funny?" Akira asked, throat dry, head pounding. "My stomach feels like it's digesting itself, and I feel all gross. Did I shower last night?"

"You don't remember?" Hikaru asked surprised. "Yeah, you fell asleep; I had to go in to get you."

"Y-you walked in on me?" Akira asked, burying his head into a pillow. Knowing his face was bright red only added to his discomfort.

"I was worried, and it's not like there was anything I hadn't seen before."

"That's true," Akira mumbled, voice muffled by the pillow.

"I guess this isn't the best time to tell you that I **do** plan to collect on your offer last night."

"Huh?" That comment got Akira's attention, and he turned painfully in order to open eyes that felt heavy and swollen.

"You offered yourself to me last night. You must remember that much, at least."

Akira did remember and felt himself flush a brighter red, which he thought wasn't possible. "I wasn't myself last night," he defended.

"Yeah, but stripped from all of your inhibitions, you couldn't deny what you wanted. God, you were so hot last night … trying to seduce me. I didn't think you had it in you." He couldn't help the nervous laugh that escapes his lips and was glad that Akira was too distracted by discomfort to notice his momentary lack of composure at the subject.

"I'm not sure if I should be glad that you didn't take advantage of me or feel offended that you didn't find me seductive enough."

"You would have regretted it if I had taken you like that."

"Yeah," Akira agreed. He wanted to say more, but he couldn't quite grasp the words he needed. Beside him, the bed creaked, adjusting to Hikaru getting up. Eyes squeezed tightly shut as he tried to voice what he was feeling. "Hikaru … thank you for last night."

"Yeah," Hikaru answered lightly, almost dismissively. "But if it weren't for me, you wouldn't be like this now."

"Just … thank you for taking care of me. Thank you … for caring."

Hikaru paused, unsure of what to say. He didn't even know if he should be allowed to accept Akira's gratitude. As the silence stretched between them, he could feel something hanging in the air. Although he wasn't sure why, but he felt as if this moment were terribly important, one of those times in the relationship that put them on the next level: the next level of comfort, the next level of understanding, the next level of respect and appreciation. Without looking back he said, "You should never expect anything less from me." He headed towards the door. "I'll get you some aspirin and some water." Shutting the door quietly behind him, he stood still for a moment, letting his head tilt back and rest against the wood. He felt some sort of pride spread through him and couldn't help but let a small smile curl his lips. It wasn't often that he had the chance to look after Akira, since it was very much the opposite most of the time. Now he knew he could be there when Akira needed him, and that mattered to him.

With a shake of his head, he gathered what he needed to from the kitchen and upon retuning to the room gave Akira two pills. The first one was the promised aspirin, while the second was a sleeping pill. It would be better if Akira spent most of his time sleeping his hangover off.

Akira accepted the medicine without a question and then tugged at Hikaru to join him in bed. "Just hold me until I fall asleep," he requested.

"I'd be happy to," Hikaru replied, climbing in bed and setting Akira's head on his lap. "Now is there anything else I can do for you? Anything you want me to take care of for you while you're not feeling well?"

When Akira didn't speak, Hikaru thought the other boy had fallen asleep, but then he answered sleepily and not completely coherently, "Mom's … soup."

Once Akira's breathing had steadied, Hikaru let himself out of the room. The reality of what was inevitably going to happen in the next couple of days had him feeling more down to earth than he had ever been in his entire life. With a resigned sigh, he made two phone calls. The first one was to his mother, letting her know that he and Akira would be stopping by for dinner tomorrow and that he had something to tell her. At least his father, away on business, wasn't going to be there. Hikaru knew he'd have enough trouble dealing with his mother's reactions. Although he wasn't ashamed of his relationship with Akira, revealing a secret like this to his mother was still going to be awkward. The next call he made was to Ogata, inquiring if Touya-sensei was in the country at this point. Once he received affirmative confirmation, he made a hasty excuse about having to go, knowing very well that the sharp, blonde-haired man was wondering why exactly he didn't contact the Touyas directly.

With a heavy sigh, Hikaru cleaned and dressed himself and set out on his task. Going to see the ex-Meijin was **not** going to be fun, but it had to be done. Even if Akira hadn't asked for the soup, Hikaru knew that he would have to face the Touya family at some point. With a deep breath, he gathered up his courage, head held high and shoulders squared, preparing for battle as he left the apartment.


	14. Setting Things Straight

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing from the Hikago universe.

**Author's note:** I bet you thought I had vanished or something. XD Hostilecrayon provided the nudge I needed to think about Hikago again. I hope you all will continue enjoying this fic, even though there was somewhat of a hiatus between the posting of this chapter and the last one.

**Chapter 14: Setting Things Straight**

It was mid-afternoon when Hikaru stood outside of the Touya property, hands wringing nervously. _If Touya-sensei yells at me, I swear I'll wet myself, or cry, or do something equally embarrassing,_ he couldn't help but think sourly, fear pounding into his system every time his heart beat. With a deep breath, he forced himself to knock on the door.

When the door opened, Touya's mother stood looking a bit shocked. "Shindou-kun?" she asked, head turned slightly so her eyes could dart towards a figure sitting in the living room behind her. "You probably shouldn't be here," she whispered to him. "If Kouyo sees you, I don't know what will happen."

"I … I know you probably think it's in bad taste for me to come, especially in the light of what happened yesterday," he began trying to be as polite as possible, in short as Akira-like as possible. "I wouldn't normally have come to stir the waters, but it's just that Akira's sick."

Upon hearing that her precious son was sick, Akiko's motherly instincts took over, and her features turned from one of apprehension to one of the greatest concern. "How? He was fine last night. Well, not fine, but healthy."

_To tell the truth or not?_ Hikaru asked himself, mind running on blank. "I'll be truthful with you," he said, deciding to stick to the truth, since the whole conversation would be hard enough already without him having to make up lies and keep up with them. "We fought when Akira came home last night. I… oh, it's not important, but he stormed out. A friend later found him drinking in a bar."

"Akira … drinking?" the mother asked hesitantly as if the image didn't seem quite right to her brain. Now the image of Touya Akiko was that of utmost worry.

"He was really upset last night. …I … and he …" Hikaru shook his head apologetically not knowing how to articulate his thoughts. "He had a lot to drink. He's been sleeping most of today, but he's feeling pretty sick. And … when I asked him if he wanted anything, he said that you always made soup for him when he was feeling ill."

A smile spread on Akiko's face, softening her features. "Yeah."

Hikaru realized he had seen that exact expression before. It never ceased to amaze him how Akira was the spitting image of his mother. Except for his eyes - those steely, concentrated eyes were definitely a gift from his father.

"Akiko, who's at the door?" the ex-Meijin belted out with that powerful, rumbling voice of his. To his wife, the voice was sexy; to Hikaru, the voice was terrifying.

"It's … Shindou-kun," she said pausing before the name.

Touya Kouyo was at the door in no time, cold eyes staring down into Hikaru's. Hikaru could never understand how Akira's father could make him feel so small, so utterly childlike, especially now that he was an adult.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"Akira's sick," Akiko tried to explain. "And Hikaru asked if I could make some of that soup I always make when he's sick."

The ex-Meijin said nothing, but rage and hostility entered into those eyes, emotions easily read by Hikaru.

_You must really hate me,_ he thought. _I've stolen your perfect son from you, haven't I? I've done something awful to you._

"Shindou-kun?" Akiko asked, "Would you like to help me in the kitchen?"

"I'd love to," Hikaru replied shrinking under the ex-Meijin's heavy gaze. _Anything to get away from your scary husband._ "I don't know how much help I'll be, though. Akira's a much better cook than I am."

"He used to help me out a lot," Akira's mother said wistfully. "He was always such a good, thoughtful boy."

"He still is," Hikaru insisted stubbornly as Akiko whisked him inside pretending to not see the sour look on her husband's face.

"Shindou-kun," Kouyo finally spoke. "I think we should have a chat."

_I was so afraid of that,_ Hikaru thought eyes widening to the point until they showed white all around, sort of like a frightened horse's. He was so frightened that he didn't even realize that he had made an uncomfortable "eep."

The sound didn't escape the Touya's though, and Akiko tried to ease the young man in front of her. "I'll start the broth and get the ingredients together for making the wontons. I'll call you after that. It shouldn't take more than about fifteen minutes."

_He'll kill me by then,_ Hikaru thought miserably, eyes still focused on the icy, imposing figure of Touya Kouyo. Reluctantly, he followed the formal looking man into the living room, while he heard Akiko bustle around in the kitchen in the room next door.

-----------------------------

"Akira never tells me anything anymore," the ex-Meijin started out eyes boring into Hikaru's.

"I'm … sorry," Hikaru answered, voice wavering. He dropped his gaze to the floor, content to look at his feet.

"Can I ask you some questions?"

"Do I have to answer all of them?" Hikaru asked feeling highly uncomfortable at the open ended nature of the question.

"Answer the ones you do truthfully."

Hesitating momentarily, Hikaru finally said, "That's fair." With a gulp, he clamped his hands down on his knees, gripping at them tightly. _So this is the terror of "meeting the parents" I've heard about._ It was odd that he had already met the Touyas on several of occasions, but none like this.

"How long have you been dating?"

Hikaru hesitated for just a moment before answering with softly, with his eyes downcast. "A little more than two years."

Next to him, he heard Akira's father suck in a sharp breath of air. "That long?"

"What?" Hikaru asked, lifting his head up, confused. "You knew?"

"I had suspicions… Why?"

"Do you mean "why did this happen?" Hikaru tried to clarify meekly.

Akira's father stared down at him stonily, and Hikaru could feel himself shrink even more. He now knew what it felt like to be Alice in Wonderland, getting smaller and smaller, becoming more and more aware of the fact. "The game drew us together, and … I don't know how, but it just did."

The man observed the boy carefully, eyes narrowed.

"Are you going to tell him he can't stay with me anymore?" Hikaru asked, scared eyes focused on his the ex-Meijin.

"Akira is stubborn and independent."

It was all that Hikaru needed to be reassured that nothing was seriously going to change. As the conversation progressed, Hikaru found his curiosity growing, and so he asked the question that had been plaguing him, "Do you … not approve?"  
The ex-Meijin didn't reply, but the answer was in his eyes.

Apparently, he was following the same guidelines Hikaru had set up for the question and answer session. Curiosity got the best of Hikaru, so he tried another question. "What happened last night?"

"We lost our tempers. Careless words were exchanged. And then, I asked Akira to leave, because he was rather disrespectful." This time, his eyes were focused on Hikaru as he made the observation.

_You're blaming that on me, huh?_ Hikaru thought ruefully. _I can live with that._

The daunting scowl left his face briefly as the cold ice of his eyes melted. "I love my son, though."

"I love him, too," Hikaru told the ex-Meijin softly.

That look of disapproval entered his eyes again, and Hikaru felt as if he had to defend against it.

"It's true!" he insisted, finding his stubborn streak. _Like father like son,_ Hikaru thought shaking his head with dismay. And suddenly, he found that he was able to say what he needed to. Akira had inherited a lot of characteristics from his father, and Hikaru had never been intimidated by Akira's temper. "It may be awkward, even uncomfortable, for the Go world and for us, but it's not going away. **We're** not going away. It has been two years, and what we have is solid!"

The ex-Meijin favored Hikaru with a new look. It wasn't exactly surprise, because Hikaru doubted that many things were able to surprise someone that seemed as worldly as him. "Oh?" He raised an eyebrow.

Managing to suppress a yelp, Hikaru had to go on the offensive or give into the fear that the imposing ex-Meijin had. Not many people had the privilege of learning how to develop an intimidating presence, but professional Go players definitely did have that privilege. With a shaky breath, Hikaru managed to say, "I'm sorry you had to find out the way you did. Akira and I would have told you someday. But … he was always so worried about what everyone would think."

Touya Kouyo made a noise that sounded close to a snort.

"He really holds you in high regard," Hikaru offered. "You should talk to him once he's feeling better. It would be a shame to see your father son bond broken by something like this." _Plus it'd kill Akira, I know it would. I can't let that happen. I __**won't**__ let it happen._

"The news is rather a momentous," Akira's father said, those eyes perpetually narrowed, cold, pondering.

"It's only as big as you make it. It doesn't change who he is … how he's meant to play the game. How you've helped create that path for him. None of that changes. The relationship between the two of you doesn't have to change. Please, don't let it." With the last sentence, his voice dropped off, and his eyes gazed into Kouyo's pleadingly. _You have to understand that beyond everything else, I want Akira to be happy, even if I have to beg you._

With that, he took the opportunity to excuse himself before the ex-Meijin could think of a response. Wandering into the kitchen, he very much intended on checking up on Akira's mother to learn just exactly how to made homemade wontons.

-----------------------------

It was nearly dinner time when Hikaru had left the Touya household.

_It probably wouldn't have taken that long if Touya-san hadn't had to stop to teach me how to fold the wontons,_ he admitted ruefully.

He was amazed at how her fingers deftly molded the dough. Awestruck, he had watched the process over and over. When she set her finished product down, it remained plump and held its shape. Hikaru had tried following her lead, but his own dumplings came out limp, and he found out exactly how clumsy his own fingers were.

For his efforts, he had left the house with more than just the soup; Touya Akiko had made a whole meal. Surprising, he escaped from Touya home feeling better than he would have imagined.

He had point blank asked Akiko why she was being so nice.

With a gentle smile on her face, she had said, "For years, Akira-san's only been about the game. Last night he was heatedly passionate about something else. That's indication enough for me as to how important you are to him."

That accepting statement warmed Hikaru to the depths of his soul, reassuring him that everything would be okay in the end. All he and Akira would have to do would be to endure this rough time. Touya Akiko hadn't been shocked, a fact she attributed to knowing her own son very well. She had been every bit the understanding mother that he hoped his own would be.

When Hikaru opened the door to his apartment, he found Akira pacing nervously down the length of the common room, phone in hand.

"Where were you? And why didn't you have your cell phone on?" he demanded.

"What the heck!?" Hikaru shot back. "I went to do something **you** asked me to do, and you yell at me!?" He set the containers of food down on the counter eyes flashing angrily.

Akira's brows furrowed as a puzzled look overcame his face.

"You don't remember asking me to get yet your mother's soup that you just **had** to have when you were feeling sick?"

Shaking his head dumbly, Akira said, "All I remember was wanting to put myself out of my misery." Eyes growing large, he continued. "But when I woke up and you were gone … I got scared." The last part of the sentence ended in a hoarse whisper.

Hikaru wondered how Akira could do this, make his emotions do a complete 180 in a matter of seconds. Along the road of their relationship, he found it quite remarkable how much reassurance Akira needed. Akira had seemed to him like a confident dragon at first, but that was only his Go persona. The real Akira away from the goban was rather shy, quiet, thoughtful, and even pensive at times. Sometimes he would enter a mood where his diffidence would take over.

"Come here," Hikaru said to the still slightly dazed Akira. Holding out his arms, he waited for the other boy to walk into them, and he wasn't disappointed.

"Don't scare me like that again," Akira murmured resting his head against the nook between Hikaru's neck and shoulder, arms closing around his body.

Hikaru was more than happy just to hold Akira, hands rubbing against his back in soothing circles. "Don't worry; we're okay. Okay?" Against his skin, Hikaru could feel the head nodding in agreement.

"S-sooo, you saw my father?" he asked hesitantly, as if he wasn't quite sure if he wanted to know what had happened.

"Yeah."

"How was he?"

"Terrifying."

"Oh." The response was dull and flat.

"Don't worry, he'll come around. I promise."

"How do you know?"

Shaking his head, Hikaru sighed. "He has to, so he will. Plus your mother was really cool."

"Hmm," Akira murmured.

"You want to know what she told me?"

"Ummm …"

"She said that last night she heard you argue with your father, and that you sounded so heated about our relationship, which was indication enough about how important we are to each other. That's encouraging, right?"

"Un," Akira mumbled his affirmative unenthusiastically.

Hikaru knew that she wasn't the one he was worried about. "Don't worry; your dad will come around." _You won't lose him like I lost Sai; I won't let you._ "Now, come on, let's eat up. Your mom made a bunch of food for me to take home to you. She was really worried when she heard you were sick."

"Sick, huh?" Akira commented dryly, straitening his posture and pulling away from Hikaru. "I suppose it's some kind of sickness."

"Come on," Hikaru urged, beginning to set the table. "Eat up. Tomorrow night, you and I are having dinner at my house …"


	15. Dinner at the Shindou Residence

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing from the Hikago universe.

**Author's note:** It has been so long since my last update that I feel I owe some sort of explanation. I never thought of myself as an author that would abandon a fic, but for the longest time I simply lost my way. I had trouble returning to this fic for several reasons including, but not limited to, the fact that I felt/feel a disconnect with my older writing style and the fact that I've re-thought characters and their actions (in such a manner that I think some of the situations/actions/reactions I've previously come up with are a little incredulous). What's a fanfic writer to do at this point? (a) Take the whole thing down and rewrite the whole thing? (b) Leave it unfinished forever? (c) Keep with the original planned ending… thought up years ago (even if I'm not sure it's the best ending now)? (d) Try to resolve everything as best as possible (even if it means changing the ending I had originally planned… and spent 14 chapters building up to, a feat I'm not sure can be done). A writer that respect and admire (KY, that's you - *waves if you're still reading this fandom… after all this time*) told me option (a) was impossible and to just move on. Sooo, I think I'm left somewhere between choice (c) and (d) if I plan to finish this fic (which I do). Now that the long-winded explanation is over, please read and enjoy. As always, your thoughts are always welcome. =)

**Chapter 15: Dinner at the Shindou Residence**

"Why do **I** have to go with you?" Akira grumbled pulling at the collar of his button up shirt, his fingers smoothing the already crisp fold.

"I need some moral support," Hikaru hissed at him. "Plus this involves you too."

"How convenient," Akira replied dryly. "Where were you when **I** needed moral support?"

"Hey!" Hikaru cried sharply. "We had no idea then. But now we do. Are you going to insist on bickering like this?"

Akira shook his head immediately, as if his answer was instinctive. "Together," he affirmed. "We decided that the best way to get through all of this would be together." Reaching out a hand, he grasped Hikaru's fingers, giving them a light, reassuring squeeze.

In the middle of fumbling in his pocket for his keys, Hikaru turned around with dazed eyes and a dopey smile on his face. "God, I love you." After pausing to bask in the happy glow, if only momentarily, the innocent, happy look dropped off of his face and was replaced by steely determination, as he was well aware of what events were to follow. "Let's go."

Releasing Hikaru's hand, Akira stepped back, his facial expression becoming blank as well - pale, emotionless, like a warrior headed into battle.

"Mom!" Hikaru called unceremoniously upon entering the house. "I'm home."

"Hikaru, I'm in the kitchen," Mitsuko replied. "Dinner is almost ready."

"Shindou-san," Akira greeted politely, hurrying over. "Good evening. How have things been at home?"

"Ah, Touya-kun," Mitsuko said, a smile spreading on her face. "Things are fine. How about with you? Hikaru isn't giving you too much trouble is he?"

Laughing good-naturedly, Akira replied, "Not too much trouble."

"Mom!" Hikaru warned.

"It's just that you aren't very independent, Hikaru," his mother chided. "I've spoiled you with the cooking and the laundry."

"Che," Hikaru said taking a coke out of the fridge and slumping down in his normal seat.

"Do you need help?" Akira asked, turning large, guileless eyes to Hikaru's mother.

"How **nice** of you to offer," Mitsuko replied, pointedly staring at her son. "But have a seat; I have everything under control. Oh, is there something you'd like to drink, seeing as Hikaru hasn't offered you anything." Her eyes were trained on her son, who was slouched over in his seat. "I wish he could have learned manners like you, Touya-kun."

"Hey!" Hikaru protested taking a swig from the can of coke. "If you saw him last night –"

"Hikaru!" Akira cut in sharply. When two pairs of eyes turned to him, he smiled his sweetest smile and returned to his polite, gracious persona. "If you wouldn't mind, I'd like some tea."

Grumbling, Hikaru went to the fridge and poured a glass of iced tea that he knew his mother had brewed especially for Akira. "Make me look bad," he muttered under his breath. Akira only looked at him innocently as he took a sip from the glass.

"So," Mitsuko said once the trio had settled down and begun eating. "What brings you here, Hikaru? I know you hate stopping at home, so something must be wrong."

"I …" Hikaru took the opportunity to stuff his mouth full of food, chewing as he said, "Mom, Akira and I—"

"I knew it!" she cried fretfully, raising both hands to her cheeks. "You guys don't have enough money to rent that fancy apartment of yours. Your father and I don't have enough money to –"

"No! Mom!" Hikaru cut in, "That's not it. Geez, you've seen how much I make. Akira makes even more than me. If we were in financial trouble, we'd ask the Touyas for help first. They're a lot better off than we are."

"Well," Hikaru's mother said calming down again. "Then, what is it?"

Even though he wasn't ashamed of his relationship with Akira, he found that the next words were very hard to say, or rather to articulate correctly. _Do I just say, "By the way mom, Akira and I are gay"? Or perhaps I perhaps try more tact?_

While he was thinking, the phone rang. When his mother excused herself to answer the phone, Akira leaned in and hissed, "See, not so easy, is it?"

"Shut up," Hikaru shot back. "I'm trying not to shock her too much."

"Hmph," Akria answered primly sitting back in his seat once more, the poster child for perfect posture.

_Oh, be glad you're an only child,_ Hikaru thought. _If you had siblings, they'd all hate your persona of perfection._ But even as he mentally complained, he knew he loved that characteristic of Akira. He loved every part of the other boy, from the shell of perfection Akira put forth to keep others from seeing his true insecurities all the way to the depths of his soul. _Perhaps I should focus on that feeling when I tell my mother._ Hikaru's thoughts were cut off by his mother coming back to take her seat.

"That was your father," Mitsuko said returning to the table. "When I mentioned that you were coming home today, he said he'd try to make an earlier flight just to come home to see you. He's on his way home. Isn't that nice?" She picked up her glass of iced tea, took a sip, and turned expectant eyes on her son.

_Nice?_ Hikaru thought incredulously. _More like uncomfortable and awful._ He had not been expecting his father to break a perfect record of neglect at a time like this and knew that he needed to tell his mother the truth and leave before his father returned home. Taking a deep breath, he said the next few sentences without skipping a beat. "Mom, listen to me. I have to tell you something. The reason why I came home was to tell you that Akira and I … we're dating."

Mitsuko's eyes widened, and Hikaru watched frozen with stupor as the glass his mother was holding slipped out of her hands and landed with a dull clunk onto the table, spilling the amber colored liquid it held.

"Here, let me help," Akira said moving automatically to get the dish rag in order to wipe up the spill.

Shooting him a warning look, Hikaru put a hand on top of Akira's to stop his action. _No,_ he thought. _You will stay here with me, by me, supporting me._

"This is all **your** fault!" Mistuko cried in a screeching wail.

To Hikaru's surprise, she turned to him and said, "Quit this nonsense. You're confused, and now you've dragged Touya-kun into your mess."

"Y-you're blaming **me**?" Hikaru asked, astounded. _Are mothers allowed to side with the "other guy"?_

"H-hikaru, you can't be gay. You were such a normal child. Well, until you started that Go phase…" Her sentence trailed off as she reeled thought about the implications of her own statements.

"Mom! Don't be ridiculous. I fell in love; it just happened to be with a guy."

"Does that mean that you're **not** gay? Then you can fix it right? Touya-kun," Mitsuko said turning desperate eyes on the paragon of calm in front of her. "Hikaru may not always be reasonable, but you are. You know this is ridiculous. Is it because you guys don't have time to meet girls?"

"Shindou-san," Akira started using a gentle tone. "That simply isn't the case. There are plenty of pro Go players that are girls as well. Additionally, I'm going to college as well. There are plenty of opportunities to meet girls. But for Hikaru and I, we …" He shrugged helplessly, as if he thought he had already made his case perfectly clear.

"What about Akari?" she asked focusing her attention on her son once more.

"What does **she** have to do with anything?" Hikaru asked, confused.

Next to him, Hikaru could hear Akira let out a resigned sigh, as if the other boy knew that the conversation would take this turn.

"It's just that her mother and myself, we'd always hoped that the two of you would, you know, end up together."

"Akari?!" Hikaru said incredulously. "You've got to be kidding me. We've only ever been friends. I can't think of her as anything else."

"She's cuter than someone you could normally get, Hikaru," his mother lectured him. "She's grown up quite a bit and is developing quite nicely."

"AAARRHG!" Hikaru cried. He didn't want to hear this with Akira sitting next to him. In fact, he didn't want to know about the details of his oldest friend becoming a woman. Next to him, Hikaru noticed that Akira's shoulders were shaking slightly. Was Akira upset? Crying? Hikaru couldn't tell, so he focused his gaze and saw that his boyfriend had a hand pressed against his lips to… stifle a giggle. _He's … laughing?_ Hikaru realized outraged. _This is __**so**__ not funny._

This situation was almost too much for Hikaru to deal with. He had just outed himself. His father was on his way home. His mother thought the whole thing was his fault. And to top it off, his boyfriend seemed to be enjoying his humiliation. Fuming, Hikaru tried to put his thoughts together in order let out one of those tantrums he was so well known for. But before he could open his mouth to start yelling, Akira saved him from his mother's harassment.

"Shindou-san, I am being completely earnest when I say that Hikaru and I thought long and hard before entering this relationship. But love, in this case, is gender blind." The tone to his voice had softened to a tender whisper, and something in it must have caught the concerned mother's interested.

"Touya-kun, are you **sure**?" she tried one last time, although the fight had already left her eyes. "Hikaru's irresponsible and stubborn. He's also selfish."

"Hey!" Hikaru protested loudly.

"But he's also honest and spontaneous. And caring. We care for each other a lot. I hope you can respect that."

_Akira's done it again,_ Hikaru thought, half-annoyed, half-amazed. _He exudes that calm confidence that has even worked on my mom._

"But … but what about **grandchildren**?!" Mitsuko was already wailing.

"Now, now," Akira said in his most soothing voice. "There's always adoption. And if we wanted children of our own, there have been great advancements of in-vitro. Then, we'd have to find a surrogate, of course."

"WHAT!?" Hikaru yelped shooting a glance at Akira. "When have we **ever** discussed anything like this?!"

Blinking a couple of times, Akira's eyes met Hikaru's, as wide and innocent as Hikaru had ever seen them look. "You can research this stuff online. It's easy."

_It's … easy?_ Gaping, wide-mouth, Hikaru miserably listened as Akira and his mother talked about the possibilities of babies in the future. _What the hell is happening?! I'm so confused._ Of all the outcomes, he hadn't really expected this wishy-washy reaction from his mother. He had only seen the two extremities with the Touya household, but his own mother was a mystery. He knew that she liked Akira a lot. Something about the other boy's aura of responsibility and those innocent, wide-eyed looks that he displayed whenever he needed to made adults immediately like him. _Well,_ he corrected, A_dults who didn't play Go against him._ He realized that he had spaced out when he felt two pairs of expectant eyes focused on him.

"Ummm," Hikaru said, uncomfortable smile on his face. "I wasn't listening."

"Your father is on his way home, I'd like you to stay around and tell him … your news."

"No freaking way!" Hikaru exclaimed. "Things like that are why I have **you** around, mom."

"Hikaru, be more adult-like," she pleaded with him.

"No way! Let's go home now. We're done eating anyway."

"Don't be rude, Hikaru," Akira broke in.

However, Hikaru's position was non-negotiable. One steely glance was the only sign the other boy needed to be silenced.

"I don't owe him anything," Hikaru insisted. "He was never around. He wouldn't care. You tell him, mom."

"Perhaps," Akira interjected gently. "We should at least stay around long enough to help your mother clean up after the meal. Do the dishes, perhaps? She did offer us this lovely meal."

"I want to go home."

"Hikaru …" Akira let out a sigh, as if he didn't know what to do. Finally, when he spoke again, he laid out a compromise. "I'll clear the table. Why don't you and your mother talk out in the family room?"

Hikaru shot an unhappy glance from his boyfriend to his mother. "Fine," he said stonily, getting up and pushing in his chair in such a manner that it scraped unpleasantly against the tiled floor.

* * *

"Mom?" Hikaru asked hesitantly once they were seated comfortably side by side on the couch.

"What is it, Hikaru?"

"What do you really think? About Akira and me. I'm getting mixed messages from you, and I really would appreciate your blessing."

"I … you know I adore Touya-kun. He's a nice boy, always so polite. But, I'm not sure I like the idea of him with you … like that."

"Oh."

"Can't the two of you guys just be friends, like you used to be?"

"Mom, there was a very short period of time where we were friends. We practically went from rivals to… well, what we are now, a couple."

"But, then …" Confusion entered her eyes. "I saw Touya-kun at tournaments before …"

"And I finally introduced you to him when I was fifteen. We started dating less than a year later."

"You've been dating for two years?!" she asked, eyes growing wide. "Why are you telling me now, then?"

"Mom, we're … our relationship will be revealed to the public tomorrow. I didn't want you to hear it from someone else first."

"But … two years. You hid this from me for **two years**?!"

"I'm sorry mom. Akira was always afraid of his family finding out. They're a lot more traditional than us in more ways than one." Sighing deeply, he ran a hand through bleached-blond bangs. "His father isn't talking to him anymore. I can't even imagine what that's doing to him. He was always so close to his father..."

"Then … why not try something else? Even for a bit, just for experimentation's sake. The both of you, so nobody has to get hurt."

"Mom. This isn't like musical chairs. I can't just, poof, date someone else when it won't mean anything. It's Akira. I know him better than anyone else, and he knows me better than anyone else. It **has** to be him."

"I don't know when I stopped knowing who you are. Was it between the Go lessons? Or did it start even before that? … Or perhaps when you moved out?" Her eyes grew dim, distant, and forlorn.

"Mom, I'm still me. It's just … is it wrong that I've fallen in love with a man?"

A sigh escaped Shindou Mitsuko's lips. "I don't know."

The sound of spraying water that was emanating from the kitchen stopped, signaling to both mother and son that their time together was about to run out.

"Just keep an open mind," Hikaru requested softly. "It'll be okay, really."

_Who are you?_ she wondered. _The Hikaru I know doesn't look at anyone with that tenderness in his eye. He doesn't think of other people first. He's not the type to plead for understanding. He usually yells his opinions and storms off at the first sign of a fight. When did you grow up? And more importantly, how did I miss it?_

"Akira?" Hikaru called getting up and meeting his boyfriend in the kitchen. Hikaru never saw, but his mother wiped away a single tear that traced slowly down her cheek.

Forcing a smile, Mitsuko bid the couple a good night and promised to break the news to her husband. After her guests had left, she closed the door behind her, buried her face into her hands, and allowed her tears to flow easily. However, she knew that she wasn't crying because of Hikaru's lifestyle choice; it because her son had become an adult without her realizing it.

**TBC**


	16. Monday, Monday

**Disclaimer:** Just borrowing characters for fanfic fun. I own nothing.

**Author's Notes: **I really struggled with this chapter (more than I though I would). (This doesn't sound promising, does it? lol) I wanted it to be great, and it sort of turned out like this, lol. ^.^;;; I think it's okay; I hope it's okay. 0.o I really am trying... Much thanks to my readers for continuing to read... after so many years. Oh, and to anime sleepovers that have me re-watching Hikago. ^.~ As always, I would really appreciate any feedback any of you have to offer. It really does help as I continue to progress further in the story and hopefully bring it to a conclusion... eventually. =)

**Chapter 16: Monday, Monday**

The beauty about Sundays was that there weren't often Go obligations, and if there were, such events were normally assigned to the pros with less seniority. So, luckily, neither Hikaru nor Akira had anywhere to be the day when the dreaded issue of Weekly Go hit the newsstands. They stayed home and spent the day mostly lying in bed and talking. In order to ensure they had some semblance of peace, they had both turned off their cell phones knowing that the following day, when they had to return to work, would bring nothing but a torrential downpour of questions.

To prepare, they had gone over every inch of the article, still wincing at the deeply personal pictures that were included, but concentrating on the words. At least the words weren't as sensationalistic as they could have been. Nothing like "scandal" had appeared anywhere in the article. Basically, all it stated was that an anonymous tipper had given them word that two of Go's brightest young players were romantically involved. It also stated that the boys were living together and that there was no confirmation on how long the relationship had been going on. At the end, there was a line that said something about respecting the couple's privacy.

_Privacy my ass,_ Hikaru thought malevolently cursing the entire staff of Weekly Go. _You print this, and you speak of privacy._

Although the article had tried to be insipid in the manner of writing, the nature of the subject was one that would foster curiosity and would lead to gossip of all of its readers.

"This is our reality," Akira said impassively.

_It's so like him to put up this emotionless front, even though he's burning with embarrassment and anger on the inside,_ Hikaru thought, wishing that he could fake the same collected composure.

Although they tried, their situation was impossible to ignore. The couple was very much aware of the gathering crowd of reporters outside of the apartment they shared. Incessant banging and questions streamed in.

"Are you guys in there?"

"How long has your relationship been going on?"

"Are you sleeping together?"

Groaning, Akira buried his head in his arms, lying limply face down on the bed. "When will we finally be able to get peace and quiet?" he asked.

"Not sure," Hikaru answered tiredly, joining his lover on the bed, draping an arm across Akira's back, and pulling him close for comfort. "We'll just ignore them for today - pretend we're not home. I'm already getting used to the extra racket. Someone will kick the press out at some point. We live in a nice apartment complex; our neighbors won't stand for the noise."

"True," Akira relented with a sigh.

"How come you don't sound any more content?"

"What about when tomorrow comes? We have to leave to go to games and resume our jobs."

"We'll deal with tomorrow… together," Hikaru said firmly.

"Together," Akira echoed emptily. With a frustrated sigh, he grabbed the pillow underneath him and slammed it over his head still trying to pretend that nothing was happening outside.

Together. That was what they had decided on. They would be a united front, and they would not divulge further information. With an exhausted sigh, Hikaru wondered what Monday would bring, when they were once again thrust into the Go world with inquiring minds wanting to know every detail of his and Akira's life together.

It was _the_ dreaded Monday, and Hikaru and Akira left for the Go Institute together. As they ventured through the lobby of their apartment complex, both of them became very aware that the news had spread. Whispers from neighbors followed them, and Akira couldn't help his keen ears from catching some of the comments. Many were speculative and curious, while others were homophobic and downright rude.

Akira flushed angrily, provoked by the harsh judgments. It just wasn't fair. _Although, _he relented_, this problem is probably just exacerbated by the ruckus that the reporters had made the day before._

Upon exiting the building, they found that reporters still loitered outside waiting for them. This was the first time Akira wished he wasn't one of the best Go players of his generation and wished that nobody knew who he was. He doubted that any other couple would have gotten as much attention. In fact, he knew that Waya and Isumi had not; perhaps it was because they weren't forcibly outed, so it didn't constitute a "scandal."

"Touya-kun!" a reporter called to him, pen poised above a notebook. "Did you plan to come out like this? What spurred this series of actions forward? You know Weekly Go wasn't exactly clear whether your relationship with Shindou-kun was supposed to be kept a secret or not."

Head lowered, Akria stared at the ground, unheeding of the questions hurled his way.

"How did your **father** react, Touya-kun?" an older gentleman was asking him, eyes filled with curiosity.

_I bet you follow the game,_ Akria thought surveying the container of that particular question. _I bet you know who I am, who Hikaru is._

"Shindou-kun, are the two of you sleeping together?" a new voice asked.

_And that,_ Akira thought, _is most definitely a tabloid._ He was grateful that the last particular question wasn't directed at him. The "normal" questions were embarrassing enough. Next to him, Akira felt Hikaru tense and knew that his boyfriend's infamous temper was about to explode. His instincts did not disappoint him, as Hikaru suddenly whirled around and faced the reports behind him.

"We're professional Go players who just happen to be in love. Don't you have better things to do than harass us?" Hikaru screamed at the top of his lungs.

Apparently they didn't. As flashbulbs went off, the questions poured out more quickly than ever.

"We are **so** out of here!" Hikaru cried, dragging an emotionless Akira behind him.

Once they made it to the subway station, the reporters had no choice but to give up their frantic chase. Akira commented, "Way to go." A ghost of a smile lingered on his face.

"I was never one to deal kindly with prying," Hikaru said disgustedly.

_Because of Sai,_ Akira mentally filled in. "Hmm," was Akira's only audible comment. He grew silent as the Go Institute building came into view. Fear wracked Akira's mind and manifested itself in his nervously clenching and unclenching fingers.

"Like a dragon," Hikaru whispered to him brining his Go face forward, head lifted up confidently, all emotion wiped off of his face. Everything about him was as if he were carved in stone, except for his eyes, which were slightly narrowed, clear, but sparking with passion.

_I can do that face,_ Akira thought, Hikaru's words assuaging him of his tightly wound nerves. _I can do it __**better**__ than him._ He, too, wiped any tell-tale sign of emotion off of his countenance as he followed Hikaru through the front door.

Hushed whispers stopped when the couple entered the door. Instead, it was replaced by quiet, watchful eyes. Akira turned his head one way then the other, clearing his throat. It was as if he gave a signal that everyone was waiting for, because the talking began again, and this time he could catch fragments of the conversations.

"I wonder how Touya Meijin took it …" one boy was saying to another, eyes wide.

_You'd rather not know,_ Akira answered silently in his head, cursing the fact that his hearing was sharp enough to pick up on other conversations.

"I wonder how long they **have** been together. Do you imagine it was before they moved in together?" one girl was asking her red-headed friend.

"I'd imagine so. Touya-san and Shindou-san used to be at each other's throats all the time, but now look at them."

The first girl eyed Akira nervously, lowered her voice, and asked her friend. "Then why did they need to move in together. You don't suppose that they're …"

"Absolutely," the friend affirmed. "When lovers move in together it means they need more privacy together. It'd be odd if they weren't having sex."

_Is it that odd? _Akira wondered to himself feeling his posture wilt a little. Sure he and Hikaru had begun exploring the physical side of their relationship, but it was very recently. He was very much aware of the fact that he was the reason they were moving so slowly and felt a warmth crawl up his neck and towards his cheeks. Although he didn't want to hear anymore, he wasn't quite so fortunate.

Another one of the younger female players was talking to a young man who both Akira and Hikaru were familiar with - Ochi. A mischievous look in her eye, she asked, "Who do you think is on top?"

Ochi's beady eyes widened, as his mouth opened and closed like a fish's.

The girl pressed on, clearly enjoying her companion's indignant reaction. "You know, because Touya's all reserved and stuff. You can tell by the way he acts. But when he's got a goban in front of him, there's definitely passion. Like, even with the slightest of openings, he's all over you. Hmm, I wonder if passion translates?"

From the corner of his eyes, Akira saw Ochi send the girl a horrified look.

"Yeah, you're right," the girl continued, feigning ignorance at Ochi's obvious discomfort. "It would have to be Hikaru. He's more emotional and expresses those emotions more easily. He's probably a lot more forceful."

"Eww!" Ochi finally managed to spit out, clamping hands over his ears.

_Great, Ochi, of all people, is repulsed by me. I'm sure he's not the only one. _With a heavy sigh, Akira felt his head droop, embarrassed that he was the center of all talk, but not in a way he was accustomed to. _I feel like I'm roasting in an oven,_ he thought miserably, raising a hand to loosen his tie. _I'm going to suffocate._ Hands tugged the collar of his button up shirt away from his neck, and instinctively, those hands rose up to touch his flaming face, as if to hide it from the public.

Hikaru stopped in his tracks and looked straight at Akira, who could read the displeased emotion within Hikaru's olive green eyes. Hikaru's message of, "_We are __**not**__ hiding" _was clear without Hikaru having even said a word. With that, Hikaru reached out his own hand and placed it over Akira's, letting it rest along the contour of his face momentarily. Then, those fingers forcefully curled themselves around Akira's hand and tugged it down to his side. Pulling gently, he urged his lover forward.

"Chin up," he whispered to Akira. With a wicked smile, he added, "Unless you're too frazzled, frazzled enough to **lose** today. Ogata will eat you alive on the board unless you're playing your best game, Touya **Kisei**." The appeal to Akira's pride worked like a charm.

_Lose? I will not,_ Akira thought indignantly, straightening his posture and lifting his head once more. "Let's go," he hissed subtly moving his hand within Hikaru's so that their fingers were interlaced.

Like always, at the worst possible time, a voice from behind him called, "Akira-kun!"

"O-ogata-san," Akira stammered closing his eyes, feeling his whole body tense. Turning around, he bowed his head slightly and managed to say, "G-good morning."

The blond-haired man pushed up his glasses and favored junior Touya with an amused look. "No need to sound so resigned when addressing me."

"I-I was not," he protested, his hand gripping Hikaru's harder, glad for the support. "I'm looking forward to our game today."

Ogata, with those eyes that seemed to see too deeply, gave him a look that said "Like our game is what everybody's talking about; give me a break, Akira-kun."

"Is there something wrong, Ogata-san?" Akira asked, voice quiet, the look in his eyes dangerous and calculating.

"I still don't have my key back," Ogata said, taking a drag on his cigarette.

"I'll return it to you soon," Akira replied automatically, nodding his head politely. Eyes narrowing further, he asked one more question, and although his voice was quiet, it carried through the now silent room. "Is there anything you'd like to ask, Ogata-san?"

Eyebrows rose, interested at the offer. "How will you play today?"

Shocked, Akira's eyes widened momentarily before they narrowed again. "You're about to find out."

"That's all anybody should be interested in," Ogata said, eyes surveying little pockets of gossiping groups on either side of the hallway.

"It's okay, Akira," Hikaru said touching his lover lightly on the arm.

"I completely got caught up in his pace," Akira replied shaking his head disappointedly. "I followed him too far in this corner, and then –"

"You played fine though, Akira. Your Go was fine."

"But—"

"Everyone loses games sometimes. Even you." He planted a big sloppy kiss on Akira's forehead.

"Hikaru!" he gasped wiping his forehead, eyes darting cautiously from side to side.

"Not many people are around anymore," Hikaru defended. "And seriously, what are you trying to hide. The cat's out of the bag."

"But … but … we're in public," he whispered, clearly still in shock.

Hikaru looked at him with a deadpanned face and nodded to his left, where Isumi and Waya stood, hand in hand.

"Oh."

"Come on, let's get you some lunch." They went over to the other couple, where Hikaru unceremoniously thrust Akira into their care.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Akria spluttered as Hikaru turned to leave.

"S'okay," he said with a wink. "I have some business to take of. Waya and Isumi will take good care of you. I'll see you later."

Hikaru waved and smiled good-naturedly, but by the time he turned around the happy look was already wiped off of his face. Jaw set and eyes narrowed challengingly, he headed for Weekly Go's headquarters.

**TBC**


	17. Confrontation

**Author's Notes:** Sooo, long time no update? I am planning on finishing this fic (in the foreseeable future). I sort of want to start another long fic (in a different fandom) and feel like I need to finish this one first. *nods* Much thanks to you readers for continuing to read after so many years. As always, I would really appreciate any feedback any of you have to offer. =)

**Chapter 17: Confrontation**

"Where is Amano-san?" Hikaru declared upon entering Weekly Go's headquarters. Although the office area was emptier than normal, due to many workers taking their lunch break, the few stragglers looked at him guiltily giving indication that they knew who he was and why he was there.

"I said," Hikaru began again, raising his voice, "where is –"

"He's out to lunch," somebody quickly cut in.

Hikaru turned his gaze to the source of the voice, a mousy looking man with too-big glasses perched on his nose.

"Do you know who I am?" Hikaru asked. Although soft, his voice held a controlled power.

"Yes." The man swallowed. "I do, Shindou-kun. Although I must say that I expected Touya-kun here rather than you."

"Why?" Hikaru asked, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes.

"B-because of his father."

"Because you guys told his father before you let him know. Because you let his father **ambush** him at home."

"Hey!" the other man defended. "We received information that the two of you had already been tipped off."

"Well, we weren't," Hikaru snarled. Who was this stranger, telling him what he and Akira did or did not know?

"You didn't have the pictures?"

"I … umm." Hikaru felt his rage drop as an embarrassed look crossed his face.

"Did you not tell Touya-kun?" the employee asked pushing his glasses up on his nose, an accusing look in his eyes.

"I-I, wait, who the hell are you anyway?" Hikaru asked deciding to draw on his anger once more.

"Kamagawa Daisuke," the other man offered extending his hand hesitantly. "I was the one who informed Touya-san about the coming of the article."

With this information, Hikaru decided to alter his plan. Grabbing the other man's hand, he shook it while applying an unnecessary amount of pressure into his grip. "Since you are so involved," he said, "then perhaps you will be able to shed light on who the culprit is."

"I don't know," Kamagawa replied shaking his head. "We were sent the pictures anonymously."

"I'm not so stupid as to think that you don't have any contact information. Weekly Go would not publish something like this unless they were absolutely sure of its validity," Hikaru declared using the reasoning Waya had a few nights ago.

Biting his lip, Kamagawa shifted his eyes. "I can't. It's confidential."

"So should my and Akira's personal life, but that's shot to shit," Hikaru argued taking the offensive.

"I'm sorry. I can't."

"Help me," Hikaru requested softening his tone. "Please."

As the reporter in front of him searched his face in earnest, Hikaru felt a ray of hope wash over him. Hikaru straightened his posture and squared his jaw stubbornly. "I, no, **we** need this." He tried to put every shed of sincerity into that statement.

"You really love each other, don't you?" Kamagawa asked in a hushed voice.

Hikaru nodded once. "I deceived him with my dishonesty, and I need to make it right."

For a moment longer, Kamagawa studied Hikaru's face with trenchant eyes, before relenting slightly. "We emailed him requesting negatives. We wanted to make sure that the photos weren't doctored."

"And the culprit replied?"

"Yeah."

"Are you going to give me the email address?" Hikaru asked quietly.

Kamagawa snatched a pad of post-its, wrote something on it hastily, and then pushed the small square of paper into Hikaru's hand. "I'm sorry about how this happened."

"Me too," Hikaru said running a hand through tousled, blonde bangs, a harassed smile on his face.

"It couldn't have been kept a secret forever."

"I know."

"Good luck, and please keep what happened here under discretion."

"They won't get a name out of me," Hikaru promised, turning to leave. "Thank you…for being human."

* * *

Akira sat sipping his iced tea nervously, hands clutched around the cool cup.

"Aren't you hungry?" Isumi asked kindly looking at the barely touched salad sitting in front of the Go genius.

Akira shook his head. He had never been in Waya and Isumi's company without Hikaru by his side, and he felt uncomfortable. Eyes surveying the couple, he found his gaze lingering on the golden eyed boy who was wolfing down hamburgers like a starving child.

"What?" Waya mumbled noticing Akira's pointed glance.

"Nothing," Akira answered shortly focusing his stare at the leafy greens in front of him.

Awkward silence descended over the table. Isumi was obviously at wits end trying to bring Waya and Akira into some sort of civil conversation. Waya kept shoveling food into an already overstuffed mouth, and Akira refused to speak.

Finally, Waya looked up, and pushed his fries towards Akira. "You'll feel better if you eat something filling."

Akira eyed the oily mess with distaste.

"Come on, that girly salad won't fill the stomach of a growing boy."

Akira groaned inwardly – what an utterly Waya-like statement. "What's wrong with the fact that I'd prefer not to eat a pound of grease for lunch?"

"Nevermind," Waya spat, quite literally.

Akira found himself wiping a fleck of meat off of his cheek. "That was gross," he commented, spearing a piece of lettuce and sticking the fork into his mouth.

In front of him, golden eyes smoldered.

Akira lifted one eyebrow, as if to say "bring it."

"Why are you **both** so impossible!" Isumi finally exploded.

"Shin-chan," Waya whined. "I tried. It's not **my** fault he rejects everything I try to say to him."

"You're not being completely sincere, and it's obvious. It's not just you, it's both of you. Seriously, grow up!"

Akira felt instantly ashamed that he lent a hand in causing the normally calm and rational Isumi to raise his voice. Perhaps he had been a bit childish. Biting his lip thoughtfully, Akira opened his mouth to apologize. Before he could get a word out, Waya already started speaking.

"I mean, I thought things would be different today," Waya said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Especially after what happened on Thursday night." He lowered his voice and raised his eyebrows suggestively.

Akira's mouth dropped open, eyes widening with shock. '_What did I do?'_ He thought trying his best to recall his drunken memories, all of which were fuzzy.

"Don't you remember?" Waya pressed on clearly enjoying the horrified look on Akira's face. He leaned in with mock intimacy. "You were all over me that night. You were **quite** friendly." Then, he reached a hand out and touched Akira's cheek lightly. The smile on his face and glint in his eye showed how thoroughly entertained Waya found this uncharacteristic flustered look on Akira's face.

Akira shook his head pushing Waya's hand away from him. "I …" Embarrassed, he covered his face with his hands. He couldn't remember many specifics about that night.

"I'm kidding," Waya said, bursting out laughing. When, his hysterics stopped, he was met with a furious glare. "Geez," he mumbled. "Can't even take a joke."

"You aren't **helping**, Waya," Isumi fumed. "Seriously, the both of you have to get over yourselves."

"I will if he will," Akira shot back immediately. This response was the kind of childish retort he usually reserved for Hikaru. However, he was tired and didn't have the energy to think of anything more cerebral.

"I sent you after Touya-kun that night for a reason," Isumi told Waya. "He's just as human as the rest of us, and I thought you'd be able to see that."

"Yeah," Waya grunted grudgingly.

"And you, Touya-kun," Isumi pressed on. "Waya's not as immature as you think. He found you and got you home safely. Now **please** can we all act like adults?"

Both young men, equally stubborn, stared at each other, arms folded across their chest.

Considering Isumi's words, Akira came to the conclusion that the other boy was right. Although Waya wasn't perfect, he was a good friend to Hikaru. Akira thought that he should help facilitate peace. With a deep breath, he said, "I never thanked you for that night, and I should have."

Waya stared a bit longer, brows knitted in deep thought. Eventually he muttered, "I'm sorry about overstepping my bounds earlier."

Silence ensued once more, but at least no hostility was detectable. '_And not a moment too soon,'_ Akira thought as he saw Hikaru enter the restaurant.

**TBC (two more chapters left!)**


	18. Coming to Terms

**Author's Notes:** I'm working hard to finish this fic up (one more chapter after this one)! I hope you all enjoy. As always, feedback and con-crit are welcome. =)

**Chapter 18: Coming to Terms**

"Yo!" Hikaru said waving at Waya, Isumi, and Akira, his usual, cheerful smile on his face.

Akira surveyed Hikaru with weary eyes. "What is it?" he asked suspiciously.

"Nothing bad," Hikaru responded defensively.

"Where were you?" Akira grumbled. Although addressing Hikaru, he shot a dirty look in Waya's direction.

Hikaru looked back and forth between his friend and his boyfriend. Now was not the time to delve into whatever messiness had transpired between the two in his absence. Instead, he held out his sticky-note and waved it around triumphantly.

"What are you doing, Hikaru?" Akira asked looking at his boyfriend as if he had lost his mind.

"Getting closure," Hikaru said gleefully. "And possible revenge… exacted with bodily harm. Much bodily harm."

"It's contact information," Waya breathed understanding Hikaru's excitement. "How did you get it?"

Hikaru's expression grew thoughtful as he answered, "With pity, I think." He nodded. "I'm pretty sure it was with pity."

Waya snatched the piece of paper from Hikaru's hands. "It's just an email address, he said disappointed. Do you know how hard this is going to be to link to someone? Email addresses are easy to create and abandon. You don't even know if the culprit still checks this account."

The light in Hikaru's eyes dimmed, and his lips sobered at that statement.

Waya continued unheeding Hikaru's mood change. "Even if you could find out the IP address, there's no guarantee that it will link to a home address. There are a dozen internet cafes and free wi-fi carriers now. If the blackmailer has any shred of intelligence, he would have used those avenues."

"Yoshitaka's just trying to let you know the possibilities, so you don't get your hopes up," Isumi broke in trying to soften Waya's brutal honesty.

"I know it's a long shot," Hikaru said. "But I have to try. If I didn't at least try to find the truth, it would just drive me crazy. I'd spend the rest of my days looking at each one of my game opponents thinking, 'Are you trying to steal my boyfriend?'" He looked around and hastily added, "Present company excluded."

Akira laughed at Hikaru's comment, surprising everyone, even himself. Waya, Isumi, and Hikaru all turned to look at him as if he had sprouted horns. He shrugged to indicate that he had no explanation for his sudden outburst. It just felt natural; maybe it was a good sign that he could find humor in the situation.

With sudden inspiration, Akira added, "At least it would give you extra motivation to win your games." After he spoke, he felt Waya's eyes studying him with scrutiny. He lifted his own gaze to meet Waya's and saw a light of respect and acceptance for the first time in the other young man. Feeling his posture relax, Akira realized that the war between him and Waya was over. He thought, '_If I can make it through five years of hatred from one of Hikaru's good friends, Hikaru and I can make it through this. It will get better.'_ The crazy thing was he actually believed it.

* * *

The events earlier that afternoon had Akira feeling uncharacteristically brave concerning social matters. After he and Hikaru returned home for the evening, he said quite simply, "I want to see my father." Upon hearing Hikaru inhale sharply, he asked, "Are you surprised?" His gaze met Hikaru's levelly.

"I'm not exactly surprised, "Hikaru started slowly. "I just didn't think you'd be ready for it yet."

"When will I ever be ready to possibly be rejected by my father?" Akira questioned softly.

A pang of guilt flashed through Hikaru's eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"It's not your fault," Akira answered with a strained smile. "At least not entirely." Something in Akira's face must have betrayed his confidence, because he saw guilt flash through Hikaru's eyes.

"Your father loves you. You know that, right? He'll come around, even if he isn't ready to at this point." Hikaru's voice sounded a bit desperate, as if he were trying to convince Akira.

Akira felt the corners of this lips turn down, doubt creeping up in him again. Why was Hikaru being so forceful? His eyebrows creasing, he pondered Hikaru's conviction and considered the possibility of his father not being able to accept him. Perhaps confrontation wasn't a good idea. Not much time had passed since the last time he had conversed with his father, and they had said such horrible things to each other. Akira's mind started to come up with all sorts of awful scenarios, and panic rose within him.

"Akira?" Hikaru asked hesitantly the look on his face uncertain.

"Yes?" Akira replied his attention focusing to Hikaru once more.

"I felt like I was losing you for a moment," Hikaru said slowly his eyes studying Akira's face carefully. "Where did your mind wander to?"

Akira had never been one to talk about his emotions, at least ones that bordered on insecurity. His father had always told him showing any uncertainty during a game could cost him the match. Because that idea had been ingrained in his upbringing, he filed away his "weak" emotions. Not wanting to explain things to Hikaru, he shook his head and said, "It was nothing."

"It's okay to be nervous," the blond-banged boy said reassuringly.

Akira felt himself stiffen at Hikaru's statement. Something about gentle love (especially when he felt vulnerable) wasn't something he was used to, so his defenses immediately kicked in. "I'm not nervous," he insisted firmly.

Without hesitating, Hikaru pulled Akira in for a hug. "Don't lie to me," he said his voice soft and pleading. "I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you. I know I'm not good at saying these things. I've never been good at things like this, but I'm trying to do better. So, please, don't push me away. I'm probably the one who understands what you're going through the most."

Akira heard Hikaru's voice catch with emotion, and he was overcome with overwhelming sadness for his boyfriend. Hikaru had already lost the person he had considered a mentor, a father figure, and a friend. Certainly what Akira was going through with his own father was bringing up painful memories for Hikaru.

"I'm sorry," Akira said. He let his forehead rest in the junction between Hikaru's neck and shoulder. "I wasn't thinking about the parallels that existed between this situation and how you lost…" He let his sentence hang. Even after all these years, he hesitated to bring up Sai.

"What are you sorry for?" Hikaru asked the surprise in his voice evident. "I'm just angry at myself that I caused all of this. I never wanted to harm the relationship between you and your father. I never meant for any of that to happen. I know what it's like to lose someone important, and it's killing me that I'm responsible for your pain."

Akira pulled away slightly so he could reach up with his hands and touch Hikaru's face. Fingertips on each hand rested lightly against Hikaru's jawline, and he fixed his gaze on the other boy. "Hikaru, I don't blame you," he reassured.

"But before," Hikaru started out. A bewildered look crossed his features. "It is my fault for not telling you," he ended awkwardly.

"I might have blamed you at the beginning," Akira admitted keeping his hands on either side of Hikaru's face and forcing their gazes to meet one another. "But," he said tone softening, "I've had enough time to think rationally. I think it would have been inevitable that someone would have found out about us. And we can't control gossip, as much as I wish we could. So, I really don't blame you anymore."

"I'm afraid you'll start to resent me for creating a rift between you and your father," Hikaru blurted out. "Not that you'd do it on purpose," he added immediately. "It'd just be one of those things that happened. And I just wouldn't be able to stand that."

Akira recognized the fear of loss in Hikaru's eyes and answered the only way he knew how. "Don't be an idiot," he quipped, eyes sharp. Hikaru started to protest, presumably at being called an idiot, but no words left his lips, because Akira leaned in and pressed his mouth against Hikaru's. His hands crept up Hikaru's jawline, until they found their way to Hikaru's hair, fingers curling in the fine locks. Soon, all Akira was aware of was locked lips, the sensation of Hikaru's warm tongue against his own, and a heat that threatened to swallow him whole.

* * *

Later that evening, Akira and Hikaru stood in front of the Touya household wearing similar expressions of apprehension. Akira had broken the trust that existed between him and his father, and the only suitable option was to try to make amends in hopes of salvaging what was left of their relationship.

As Hikaru had told him earlier, his mother appeared to be open-minded about the situation. She had seemed pleased when she had answered his phone call, full of encouragement and love. He had been too afraid to talk to his father at the time and had only tersely requested to impose for dinner with Hikaru in tow. Now that he stood in front of his childhood home waiting for the door to open, his nerves began to get the best of him.

When the door finally opened, Touya Akiko stood at the entrance and ushered the boys in with a gentle smile.

Although Akira found himself disappointed that his father chose not to greet them, he was grateful to see the acceptance in his mother's eyes.

Upon entering, Akiko offered hugs to both Hikaru and Akira.

"You're our son," she whispered in Akira's ear during their embrace. "We'll always love you. Your father will come around, too. You just need to talk to him"

"Thank you, mother," Akira replied feeling his control over his emotions beginning to strain.

"The two of you can go ahead to the dinner table," Akiko said addressing Akira and Hikaru. "I'll be there shortly."

With a deep breath to calm frazzled nerves, Akira gave Hikaru an almost helpless shrug as he moved towards the familiar room with the other boy following behind him. Feeling a gentle squeeze on his fingers brought a smile to Akira's lips. He knew he wasn't alone; he had the support he needed.

Entering the dining room, Akira saw his father already seated at the table. Only serenity emanated from the other man, which Akira found both odd and comforting. "Hello, father," he greeted as calmly as he could.

"Hello, Akira, Shindou." His father's voice and eyes held no anger, and Akira let go of a breath he hadn't been aware of holding.

Soon after Akira and Hikaru took their seats at the table, Akiko bustled into the room carrying dish after dish of food.

Dinner was pleasant and filled with idle chatter. However, Akira expected the meal to pass seamlessly with his mother there to facilitate the conversation. The important discussion would take place between him and his father once they finished eating.

When everyone had filled their bellies, Akiko immediately began to clear the plates from the table. "Shindou-kun, would you mind giving me a hand here and in the kitchen?" she asked.

Akira watched with a bemused smile as Hikaru, for once in his life, agreed to help with household chores easily, leaving father and son alone.

"Akira," the ex-Meijin said, "Would you like to join me in the den?"

Akira felt his heart jump. "Of course, father."

Settled in the familiar room and assured a proper opportunity to converse, Akira found nerves creeping up on him again. His father looked all too content to let the silence drag, so Akira forced himself to start speaking. "Father, I'm sorry about the direction our last conversation took. I should have kept my temper in check."

"You weren't the only one who lost his temper."

Akira knew it was as close to an apology as he'd ever receive from his father. He continued with the script he had rehearsed in his head over and over. "I'm also sorry that you had to find out the way you did. It must have been a terrible shock and betrayal of the trust we had."

"It was."

The answer was simple and honest, just as Akira expected; however, the lack of comfort stung. He found himself at a loss of words.

"But you are an adult, Akira," Kouyo continued. "Your life is your own."

Suddenly, Akira was filled with memories with his father – as a little boy having an admiration of his stately father, as a child starting to follow his father's footsteps, and as an adult trying to hold his father's legacy. "All I've ever wanted was for you to be proud of me," he whispered before he could help himself.

"I am proud of your many accomplishments," the ex-Meijin said sounding mildly surprised.

"I thought I ruined everything," Akira clarified. "I just want things to go back to normal."

"Son, what is and isn't normal is up to perception. Relationships are give and take; they shift all the time."

Akira could feel tears building. Was his father telling him that nothing could be done to repair their bond? Counting to ten in his head to calm himself, Akira managed to say, "I don't want things to change. I don't want to lose my special relationship with you."

"What we are to each other as father and son is what it is. It's fluid and always has and always will continue to change. But it will never go away."

Akria hesitated, curious about so many things. However, he wanted to make sure he got all of his points across clearly. "Father, you know that Hikaru and I are in love with one another. It's not going to be going away or anything like that."

His father actually laughed at his statement. "Akira, I would never accuse you of being fickle. If you've made a decision, I know that you've done so in earnest."

"Why the change of heart today?" Akira finally asked finding his father's new and wildly different outlook hard to believe. He had come prepared for a battle and found the ease at which the evening was proceeding baffling.

Closing his eyes, Koyou answered, "Time for one thing. Time gives one an opportunity to look at things more rationally, to put emotions in place. Your mother also helped me see things from a different perspective. She said that she has never seen you so hard fight for anything that wasn't related to Go, and she was right about that. And lastly, that boy of yours is good at dragging people into his pace."

"Hikaru?" Akira asked, surprised. The last thing he expected was for Hikaru to have gotten through to his father.

"At the end of the day, we are family. And it takes two people to let any relationship die. I refuse to be the one who gives up on us."

Akira's heart swelled. Managing to keep tears of joy from falling, he calmly asked, "Would you like to play a game?"

"Nothing would please me more, son."

**TBC**


	19. The Big Picture

**Author's Notes:** Finished! At long last. A big thank you to all the readers who stuck with it after all these years and to any new readers I've picked up along the way. =)

**Chapter 19: The Big Picture**

Slowly but surely, Akira and Hikaru's life normalized. After a few weeks, the whispers and rumors died down. Hikaru could tell that Akira, relationship with his father reinstated, started to relax as well.

However, Hikaru still had one more thing to look into before he was willing to put the whole situation behind him – trying to track down the bastard who had taken those pictures. Since the e-mail address he had received from the Go Weekly employee was his best lead, he decided pursue it. Creating a new email address (as per Waya's suggestion), he began his inquiry. His first email was introductory and demanded the culprit's identity. Once a week had passed with no response, Hikaru flooded the perpetrator's e-mail address with dozens of daily insults in hopes of getting a rise out of the other person.

Hikaru's annoying relentlessness finally bore fruit the following week as the owner of the offending e-mail address finally responded sending only a meeting time and place. Ecstatic, Hikaru let out a cry of triumph. In the midst of his celebration, Hikaru finally realized that Akira was standing behind him looking perplexed.

"What happened, Hikaru?" Akira asked when given the opportunity to get a word in.

Hikaru answered with feral smile. When the look on Akira's face changed from confused to worried, he finally clued his boyfriend in. "I've been contacting the email address of the guy who took the pictures. I finally got a place and time to meet up."

Frowning, Akira, always the logical one, said, "How do you know that this person will actually show up? You could be stuck there for hours and never figure out who it is. More likely than not, it's a waste of time."

Hikaru, in his joy, hadn't considered this outcome. "It's as good of a chance as I'll ever have. It took two weeks for me to even get a response. What, am I supposed to ignore it now?"

With a sigh, Akira simply replied, "I don't want you to go."

"I have an opportunity to meet the bastard that sent in the pictures that put us through hell not too long ago, and you're asking me not to go?" Hikaru said incredulously.

"It was a struggle to get through those hard times," Akira admitted softly. "But it's kind of a relief to get it over with. Now we don't have to live with the constant fear of getting found out. We can be ourselves in public."

Scratching his head, Hikaru grudgingly acknowledged the fact. "Ok, that might be true. But the culprit definitely had bad intentions, at least for me. He wanted to steal you from me." With that, he pouted.

"Hikaru, you never had anything to be worried about," Akira told him gently stepping in closer. He put a hand on either side of Hikaru's face, forcing their eyes to meet.

"Yeah, but doesn't it make you mad in the least?"

"You move ahead of your troubles," Akira responded backing away and heading towards the door. "I'd rather look forward than dwell on a past I can't change. Isn't there anything else you'd rather be doing rather than meeting with the anonymous tipper?" With that, he stopped at the doorframe and turned around to face Hikaru. With a sultry look, he unbuttoned the first button on his shirt, and then the next, and then the next.

From his seat by the computer, Hikaru's eyes grew large as he watched Akira's fingers move down the buttons deftly. A ribbon of pale skin showed from neck to navel, both intriguing and enticing him. "Rather be doing?" he repeated Akira's words, choking a little bit on them.

"Yeah," Akira said with a smoky, desire-laced look in his eyes. Although his lips curved into a smile, the flush on his cheeks betrayed his confidence. "I'll be waiting in the other room once you decide what you want," he whispered shrugging his shirt off of his shoulders and letting the material slither down his arms and drop to the floor. With one last pointed look, he turned and headed towards the bedroom.

Hikaru was left gaping, heart beating fast with anticipation. He looked at the computer screen displaying the date, time, and place to meet the anonymous tipper but found his gaze drawn back to the path Akira had just taken; he knew his mind was already made up. Quickly, he typed a careless message to the culprit, whose identity he had wanted to discover only minutes earlier. Now, this mission seemed unimportant in the grand scheme of things. Akira was right; the events drawn to the photographer no longer affected his and Akira's relationship.

Hikaru scanned the brief sentences he had written: "I don't care to know who you are. It doesn't matter to us anymore." He hit the send button and headed over to the other room to join Akira.

When he entered the bedroom, the shades were drawn and Akira was lying shirtless on the bed. Reflections of the dim light that filtered through the blinds illuminated Akira's smooth, pale flesh making it glow with a provocative radiance. Wordlessly, Hikaru walked to the bed and got on hearing the springs in the mattress protest the extra weight. Fingers gently brushed the edge of where Akira's slacks rested against his waist.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" Hikaru whispered.

"Yes," Akira gasped.

The next thing Hikaru knew, they were working to undress each other, the moment passing as a blur of awkwardly moving limbs, tugs, and caresses. Akira's delicate fingers played against his flesh, reminding Hikaru how much he missed the other boy's touch.

When Akira pulled Hikaru down to him, their mouths met in a passionate kiss. Lips locked; tongues swirled around each other exploring the already familiar territory of each other's mouths.

Breaking away, Hikaru moved downwards pressing his lips against Akira's chest. His gaze flicked up and observed as the other boy's head tossed from side to side. The fanning pattern of Akira's hair arrested Hikaru's attention as he could only watch his lover's movements.

"Un, Hikaaru," Akira managed, breath heavy. "P-please."

Surprisingly, now, the last thing on Hikaru's mind was the crazy stalker who had revealed their relationship to the public. All he could do was to oblige Akira's wishes as well as put into action all of the fantasies that had been pent up for the past two years …

The next time Hikaru checked his e-mail, he saw that he had already received a reply. The message was just as apt as the one he had sent. It read: "All I was going to say was "I resign.""

**End**

**Author's Notes: **I imagine that this open-ended finish might give rise to some questions…which I will attempt predict and answer below.

Q1: Did you imagine this to be the end from the beginning?

A1: When I started the fic all those years ago, I really planned on having the culprit revealed. However, as time passed, I started seeing the characters differently. Additionally, I began to feel that the fic was more about Hikaru and Akira dealing with this situation and becoming comfortable with themselves and not necessarily the identity of the anonymous photographer. This ending took the place of my original plans somewhere in the middle of writing this fic.

Q2: So you know who the culprit is?

A2: Yes.

Q3: Are you going to tell us?

A3: Umm, probably not. I think this person's identity is less important than the fact that this person acted as a catalyst to further the growth of Hikaru and Akira's relationship.

Again, a big thanks to all my readers. I really hope you guys all enjoyed the fic. =)


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